Just Overwhelm Me
by BuJyo
Summary: My post "Don't Cry" fic. The waiting and hoping and changes that take place during Mary's recovery. A bit slower paced. Warnings for language and some PG-13. The final chapter is posted and our duo moves on. Enjoy!
1. As You Are Today

***** I started writing this story about two weeks after the finale. The song by Snow Patrol haunted me, and I just kept writing as I thought about what Marshall (and eventually Mary) would be going through and how it would affect their outlooks on life. You don't go through something like this without changing a little bit. *****

***** I don't know if you all will enjoy it...there's a lot of detail, but when you're in this type of environment and the days are spent waiting, you notice a lot of little details. Please let me know if you'd like me to continue to post it! *****

***** I don't own the characters, but I make them do what they do ;) *****

_What if this storm ends?  
And I don't see you  
As you are now  
Ever again_

--- The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol

* * *

_HR: 110 __ABP: 92/46 MAP: 61 CVP: 11 SPO2: 99 RR: 16 Temp: 37.5_

_Fentanyl drip: 5ml/hr. Propofol drip: 15ml/hr. Antibiotics, another unit of blood and fluids infusing._

Two IV lines in her right arm, one in her left arm and one with three ports in her neck. Tubing for another line with a bag of saline attached snaked under her gown. The wires for the heart monitor had been threaded through the pocket on the front of her gown to maintain decency and the pulse oximeter was attached to her index finger on her left arm. A catheter bag hung on the side of the bed and tubing from some sock-like devices protruded from the end of the bed to hook to a machine that forced air into them rhythmically. Finally, the blue and white ventilator tubes meandered over to rest slightly on her chest and mated with the ET tube in her mouth. A tiny tube with a tiny balloon on the end hung off of that too.

Marshall's visual assessment of the objects and data in the room was swift and he immediately had questions for the next nurse who came in. His hands were shaking as he stood by the glass doors granting him access to his partner for the first time, and he had to focus on all the inanimate objects first in order to anchor his mind so he'd be able to actually look at the living woman in the bed. So many devices and medicines to keep her alive right now, the soft beeps and whirs combined with the serial hisses of the ventilator the audible reminders of all the usually silent processes of life.

He slowly walked towards the end of the bed and his eyes focused on her feet. One of them was uncovered, and he didn't want her to be cold so he tucked the blanket over her bare toes as he continued to the chair the nurse had placed next to her side. Marshall saw her fingers next and his brow furrowed with concern as they were swollen and so very still. Mary was never still. Always a part of her in motion…a tapping foot, finger rubbing a hem or tie, rocking slightly as she stood. He made her sit completely still for ten minutes once to win a bet and he thought she was going to jump out of her skin trying to resist movement. But not now. Those fingers didn't twitch or fidget and he was afraid their stillness would creep slowly into her heart.

Her nurse, Kelly, said he could touch her and talk to her quietly, and that it would be good for her, so Marshall gently took her cool fingers in his as he sat down. He ever so slowly allowed his eyes to travel up to her face and flinched, all his resolve to remain stoic crumbled as the tears slowly rolled down his cheeks with the sight of her.

She was pale and the skin around her eyes was puffy and bruised. He couldn't see much of her mouth as the ET tube holder surrounded it, but the dressing over the central line on her neck extended slightly over her jaw and pulled the skin a little crookedly on that side. It bothered him, but he didn't know if he could fix it so left it alone for now. He knew she had been bathed earlier, but there were still some very small spots and stains of betadine and blood near the neckline of her gown. Her hair had been tamed a bit and lay fanned across the pillow. She barely looked like herself and he morbidly wondered if he'd ever again see her as she was or if the last image he would retain was of this fragile woman lying in this bed.

A small moan escaped as he brushed some stray locks of hair off her neck and forehead, and he gathered himself enough to speak to her.

"You look like shit, Mare. I'm probably the only one who will tell you that. And you're wearing pajamas with little polka dots on them, which is just wrong."

No snarky comeback or disdaining sneer, and Marshall felt a little lost without them. He realized he had learned to gauge his conversations with her based on her responses, and wasn't sure what direction to go in without the feedback.

"I'm going to stay with you during the night, Mare. I just couldn't let you lay here all alone for so long. I'd rather be here than anywhere…except maybe plugging the guy who did this."

He studied the colorful array of fluids slowly entering her body as his emotions cracked and stuttered. White, red, clear and yellow…a veritable rainbow of sustenance and comfort. Some of the bags were hanging on standby, but most slowly emptied through the pumps that tracked dosage, volume and rate. He wondered, briefly, how the nurses knew everything that was going on in this room down to the sounds of the different machines, interpreting what they meant in an instant and responding accordingly. It was not his world, he was overwhelmed, and startled when the ventilator let out an odd honk and the tubing vibrated slightly as Mary's chest rose unevenly. It honked again and then the monitor over her head began to chime softly as a yellow light blinked, highlighting her heart rate. It had jumped to 125 and Marshall stood, alarmed and looking for the nurse.

Kelly appeared at the doors immediately and walked into the room with a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Mr. Mann, she's just waking up a little bit. She must know you're here. You're the first visitor she's responded to." The nurse watched Mary and the monitor for a few minutes as she stood by the bedside and talked to Marshall.

"The ventilator is just telling us Mary is taking a few breaths on her own over the rate we set for her. That's a good thing, but we don't really want her to wake up just yet. It's so soon after the surgery and resuscitation, and her body still just needs to rest for a day or two. "

"Should I go?" Marshall didn't want to leave, but he didn't want to endanger Mary either.

"No, you're all right. Just talk softly and try to not to stimulate her…like rubbing her hand or leg. Just a quiet, reassuring presence will be fine." The ventilator honked again and Mary's heart rate continued to hover around 126, and Kelly continued, "I'm going to up her sedation just a smidge to calm her back down as long as her blood pressure will tolerate it."

The nurse changed a setting on the pump with the white fluid, and within minutes Mary's pulse was 110 and the ventilator hissed rhythmically again. Marshall quietly asked about all the numbers on the monitor and the medications and Kelly made sure he understood all her answers before asking him if he needed anything. She left him with a piece of advice as she observed him study the monitor.

"Mr. Mann, Mary needs you to focus on **her**. Don't watch the monitor or the pumps, that's my job. You just watch her and she'll let you know what she needs."

Marshall did just that and wholly focused on his critically ill partner. He quietly told her about the events of the shooting as they knew them, knowing she'd want to know, and then updated her on what all her other witnesses were up to. He had laid his hand atop hers, but let it just rest there and Mary tolerated that just fine. He cried for a while as he apologized for not being there and asked her to forgive him. Marshall knew she wouldn't allow him to accept any responsibility for her circumstances once she was awake, so figured he'd get his say in now.

"I'm drowning in the 'what ifs', Mare. What if I had stayed? What if I had put my foot down about that move? What if you had called me instead of Bobby?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply, "All I managed to do was tell you to shut up…I didn't mean it."

Kelly came back in to reduce the rate of the sedative as Mary remained calm, and she brought him a box of Kleenex and a pitcher of water. He wondered how she knew he needed those things.

The nurses kicked him out every two hours to turn Mary, and every time he returned she was covered and obviously cared for. He slowly became comfortable with the sights and sounds of her ICU room and found himself dozing with his head resting on the siderail around five in the morning.

"Marshall….Marshall!" an insistent voice reached through his sleepy state and he lifted his head with a groan. Rubbing his eyes, he saw that Mary remained the same and he looked across the bed to see Eleanor standing there.

"I'm your morning relief, Inspector. It's six o'clock and the boss wants you to go home and get at least four hours of sleep before coming into the office. It's not negotiable." She was using her official tone of voice and Marshall grinned.

"You know, she'd think you were here to do her in." Marshall joked quietly.

Eleanor chuckled, "It would give me no satisfaction to complete that task if she couldn't put up a fight. I have to nurse her back to health first, then strike."

"It's likely that she can hear you." Marshall raised his eyebrows teasingly.

"Yes, probably, but that white medicine will keep her from remembering anything." Eleanor said wryly, "They don't call it 'Milk of Amnesia' for nothing."

Marshall gathered his few things and kissed Mary on the forehead, telling her he'd be back later. He passed Eleanor and asked, "Do you need to know anything about all the stuff in here?"

She looked at him steadily, "No. John was in the ICU for ten days before he died. I'm familiar with all the contraptions."

Marshall blanched slightly and Eleanor realized her comment was internalized with the conclusion that Mary could still die. She laid her hand on the Marshal's arm and reassured him.

"She's going to be okay, Marshall. It's nothing like John's injuries."

Marshall took a deep breath and nodded, not trusting his voice. He squeezed Eleanor's hand and exited the room to journey home.

* * *

The next two nights were nearly identical to the first. Marshall would arrive around eleven and take up a presence beside Mary. Her vital signs remained stable and the ventilator occasionally hiccupped and honked, but mainly breathed for her steadily. Her medication and sedation regimen continued the same and the nurses adjusted them slightly for Mary's comfort. The goal was rest and they assured she got it.

Kelly was there the third night and had stolen a lounge chair from the waiting room to place beside Mary's bed for Marshall. She knew he was going to sleep in there and said there was no need for him to be uncomfortable.

"If you're relaxed," Kelly explained with a grin, "Mary's relaxed. If Mary's relaxed, then my job is easier. So really, it's all about me."

Marshall liked her and knew Mary would too.

By the fourth night, the nurse had encouraging news. They had taken out her arterial line that had monitored her blood pressure continuously as she was proclaimed hemodynamically stable. They could now monitor her blood pressure with a cuff every half hour instead. Also, they had inserted a small, yellow tube into her nose and down to her stomach to start giving her some food slowly. Marshall was assured that these were all good signs of recovery and he felt a slight weight lifted from his shoulders.

Mary's face was still puffy and pale, but her fingers were not as swollen and Kelly had fixed the dressing on her central line so it didn't pull at her cheek anymore. It was very interesting to watch the nurses work and Marshall's brain was titillated by all the new information he was learning. They didn't mind him asking questions and even encouraged him to write things down so he could look them up later. Kelly was his favorite, probably because she was a bit sassy and sarcastic…reminded him of his partner in a way. She would always talk to Mary while attending to her, and when Marshall arrived one night, he could hear Kelly telling Mary some pretty ribald jokes and laughing. It brought a smile to his face that the nurse had concluded Mary would enjoy that. The nurses' aides had washed and combed Mary's hair and fixed it into two braids to keep it neat and unmatted while she lay in the bed. Marshall had laughed at her softly and teased her about the new look, knowing she'd hate it but glad she was being taken care of so conscientiously.

He had begun to read to her during those long, dark hours. It was soothing for him, and the soft drone of his voice did not seem to disturb her in any way. He wanted to pick a book he thought she would like and settled on A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. Marshall thought Mary would appreciate the story and the action…it was also one of his favorites and he had read it so many times he could almost recite it by heart. He added his own supplemental descriptions of pageantry and wizardry to spice up some of the parts and made sure he portrayed all the women in the story as having some spunk. Mary disliked wimpy women.

Eleanor was there every morning at six to send him home, whether he wanted to leave or not. Marshall would go home to shower and eat and napped for about two or three hours before heading into work. He was tired, but not exhausted, and nothing would keep him from spending the nights with Mary.

***** Thoughts, concerns, comments??? There's much, much more if you want it!! ...ball, ball Bunny... (if you get that reference let me know!!) *****


	2. Sword in Hand

***** You were all so kind to review positively!! I'm excited you like the story and will continue :) *****

***** Marshall is going to have so much more trivia in his head now! *****

**

* * *

**

And in the fire of war make me as iron to temper. Let me know no fear and should death find me let it be with sword in hand and a curse on my lips.

---A Warrior's Prayer, George Yesthal

* * *

_HR: 128 NBP: 125/65 MAP: 85 RR: 20 SPO2: 97 Temp: 38.5_

_Fentanyl drip: 7.5ml/hr Propofol drip: 10ml/hr _

_Two antibiotics and fluids. Food through the feeding tube. Only one IV in her right arm now and the one remaining in her neck._

It was the fifth night after surgery and Marshall stood in the room looking at the monitor with a frown. Her heart rate seemed too high, and he knew she was running a fever. He also noted her respirations were higher than 16 which he had thought was the setting on the ventilator, so why wasn't the vent alarming? Looking at the machine, he saw the display screen was different but didn't know what that meant. Mary just looked slightly uncomfortable and he placed his hand on her forehead in the old fashioned way of checking for a temperature.

Sure enough, she was warm to the touch and actually shifted her head just slightly as his hand rested on her. As delighted as he was with that small reaction, Marshall really wanted to talk to her nurse to see what was going on. He didn't get any information from Mary's family as they seem to have forgotten he was around. Stan had told him Brandi and Jinx were arguing in Mary's room the day before and had gotten kicked out by the nurse after Mary became agitated. He didn't know if they had been allowed back in and really didn't care much at this point. Looking out her door into the main nursing area, he was relieved to see Kelly back on duty and hoped Mary was one of her patients. She saw him looking for her and held up a finger to indicate she'd be there in a minute.

He slid the lounge chair over to the side of the bed and settled in, taking Mary's hand as he usually did and telling her about the day and the goings on at the office. About twenty minutes into his stories, Mary suddenly jerked and the ventilator honked. Her heart rate increased and she jerked again and Marshall was alarmed. It looked like she was coughing, but he wasn't entirely sure that was supposed to happen. The ventilator certainly thought it was something to draw someone's attention to, and since he could see Mary's brow furrow, he decided he needed to get Kelly into the room.

As if reading his mind, he heard the nurse approaching Mary's room.

"I hear you, Mary…hold your horses, girl, I'm coming."

Kelly came in and put on some gloves while talking, "Hello, Marshall. How're you?"

"I'm okay. What's going on? She doesn't seem comfortable…and is she supposed to be coughing like that?"

Mary's nurse looked at him for a moment and explained, "Her family obviously hasn't updated you, but they said you could have information so I'll fill you in." She was hooking some tubing from the wall to the suction port on the ventilator tubing, "Mary's developed pneumonia because some of the fluids we had to give her initially leaked into her lungs. It's very common and we expected it and she's been on antibiotics plus we're now giving her additional ones to combat the specific infection. She's got a lot of junk in her lungs that she's coughing up, and I'm going to suction her to get some of it out."

The word 'pneumonia' stuck in his brain and all the worry he had been able to release in the past few days suddenly piled upon him again. Eleanor's comment about her husband dying after spending over a week in the ICU echoed through his mind, and he remembered reading something about infection being more dangerous than the initial injury for trauma patients. He felt slightly ill and rubbed his face as he heard Kelly speaking to him again.

"Marshall, I'm going to suction her and it may bother you. It's going to make her cough and all the alarms are going to go off…it's not pretty. You may want to step out for a minute, okay?"

"No, it's all right. I'll be fine."

Kelly proceeded to perform the suctioning and Marshall decided he would definitely step out the next time it had to be done. The coughing that ensued nearly brought his partner off the bed and the sight of her limply falling back against the pillows made his vision swim. Mary's eyes opened briefly and she brought one hand up towards her face that Kelly caught and held until she calmed down again.

To try to take his mind off the event, Marshall asked, "Is she awake?"

"I wouldn't say she's aware, but this definitely wakes her up. We try to keep the sedation as light as we can, and highly stimulating activities like this wake her pretty easily. This is the first time she's reached for the tube though, and that's really encouraging."

"It is?" Marshall saw it as a cry for help and felt especially useless.

Kelly was watching Mary's vitals and answered him as she kept a hand on her patient's arm, "Oh yeah. With all the blood she lost and the cardiac arrest, the fact that she's trying to get at a source of discomfort shows us her brain is working."

Turning to look at Mary's worried partner, the nurse waved him over, "Come here and hold her hand. She's still aggravated and I can feel her trying to move this arm. I'm going to get her some anti-anxiety meds to help her calm down but I don't want her getting a hold of this tube."

Marshall was more than happy to hold Mary's hand, and he stroked her forehead while Kelly retrieved the meds from another area.

"Hey Mare, take it easy. You have to rest…get better. Let them take care of you. You're doing great…I'm really proud of you." his voice caught as he murmured to her. He was trying to calm himself down as much he was trying to comfort her.

Kelly soon returned and gave Mary a dose of versed to relieve her agitation. It worked quickly, and Marshall also relaxed as his partner looked much more comfortable and her vital signs returned to their previous values.

"Sometimes it'll seem like she'll take two steps back for every step forward, Marshall." Kelly knew he was worried and slightly discouraged, "That's typical for her condition and it's why we tell you to take it day by day in here. It may not seem this way, but she's doing very well…considering how little of a chance we gave her when she rolled in. No one thought she was really going to make it…she's proved us very wrong and there's not a single person here who isn't relieved."

Marshall swallowed, "She's a fighter…wouldn't go out without kicking and screaming the whole way. Probably be disappointed if she didn't take someone down with her."

Kelly placed her hand on his shoulder, "She's also got you to anchor her to this side. I think she draws a lot strength from you when you're with her…it's just a gut feeling, but that's what we go on around here most of the time."

He understood gut feelings and smiled at Mary's nurse, "Thanks. That helps."

Kelly left and dimmed the lights as she exited.

Marshall took a washcloth from the linen cabinet and wet it with cold water. He gently wiped Mary's face and then placed the cloth on her forehead, hoping it was soothing against her feverish skin.

"You're giving me more gray hairs here, Mare. You need to quit screwing around and get better, woman."

Settling back into the chair, Marshall leaned his forearms against the railing as he studied her.

"I miss you. Do you know we've never been out of contact for this long before? I keep waiting for my phone to ring and see that it's you. That you've woken up and healed and are ready to boss me around again." He brushed away tears with irritation, tired of crying, tired of having emotions so close to the surface but helpless to stop either while looking at her sleeping form. He took her hand and held it in both of his, bringing it up to rest his cheek against her fingers.

"This is all wrong, and I don't know what to do to make it right. They don't show this part in the movies and on the TV shows. This waiting and hoping, watching helplessly as you hurt and struggle to live…no one tells you about this. Everyday that I walk in here I close my eyes before I come through that door, willing you to be awake…to be better…and you're not. It makes me so angry. Not angry at you, but angry at everyone who put you here." Marshall kissed her fingers and laid her hand back on the bed as he leaned back in the chair trying to restore his composure and failing.

"I can't lose you, Mare. I think I might honestly waste away without you. I've learned to look at the world differently since I've known you and it would be a dull and colorless place without you with me. We've grown together in some weird fashion and now I don't think we could be separated without leaving pieces of ourselves behind, in fact, I may be so bold as to say we need each other. No one has ever understood me as you do, accepted me as you do, and I've never let anyone know me as well I've let you."

He chuckled slightly as a memory surfaced clearly, "I remember the smile on your face the first time some idiot pushed me too far. It was like you had just opened the best Christmas present ever and I was thrilled. A part of me I've always struggled with didn't have to be hidden from you and it was…I don't know…it just seemed right. We seem right."

Marshall sat and thought about that for a while, his brain turning over ideas and images as he relived their partnership. He was reminded of those desk toys with the clear and blue fluids in them. Separate due to molecular properties but existing in the same space. The liquids would swirl around each other, each moving seamlessly to fill any void left by the other. If you mixed them up, they would slowly become separate again, but there were little bits of each left embedded within the pair that would stay forever. He and Mary had been mixed up too many times…too many bits of him dwelt within her and bits of her infused him with something he did not want to give up. He came to a conclusion and stood to lean over her so he could whisper into her ear.

"You have to fight, Mary, because I'm going to fight for you. I don't know how that's going to look, but I'm going to be the one standing at your side when this is all done. I love you…and I'm not going to let you go." Kissing her temple, he sat back down in the chair, grabbed their book and began to read.

* * *

The pneumonia was tenacious and Mary fought the infection for the next three days before showing signs of improvement. Luckily, with all the antibiotics on board, she didn't develop an infection in her gut and her wounds were healing as expected. They kept her pain and sedation drips adjusted to account for her increased wakefulness, and sometimes she would just randomly open her eyes to stare at the ceiling. Marshall could tell she wasn't really seeing anything, but being able to look at her eyes was somehow comforting and encouraging. Not surprisingly, she had a habit of trying to grab her breathing tube when she was awakened and the staff was worried she'd yank it out if she could. He had learned that she was initiating all her breathing on her own, thus the change in the ventilator setting, but still needed the machine to help her get enough air with each breath. She was too weak to do that yet, and it would be dangerous for her to pull that tube out.

Kelly said her lungs were finally sounding a bit clearer and she wasn't coughing up as much…her nurse seemed optimistic, and Marshall gauged his own level of optimism with hers. He and Eleanor had taken it upon themselves to learn as much as they could about the new words and terms they heard everyday; sedation vacation, extubation, pressure support, anoxic brain injury…

The last term is the one that worried Marshall the most. No one really knew how long Mary's brain had been without sufficient oxygen when her heart stopped, and no one could tell them if she'd ever fully wake up again. The thought of her lost forever in there actually caused him physical pain. He knew she wouldn't want to live like that and prayed fervently for either full recovery or release. Every day that went by without the nurses and doctors being able to get Mary to follow commands weighed on everyone. They knew she could move everything as she was often restless and shifted her arms and legs around randomly. She would reach for the tube with her right arm, but that was the only purposeful movement she had made so far.

One of her doctors had stayed to talk to Marshall one evening and tried to give him more hope about his partner's condition. The doc said Mary was young and healthy with a strong will to live, based on her ability to already survive what would've killed most people, and he truly thought she would wake up on her own time. Her body had some pretty severe damage, and conscious thought was usually the last priority of your brain when it was trying to just heal. It didn't make Marshall feel any better, but he appreciated the information and the doctor's time.

He was relieved to finally see that she was more comfortable as the infection resolved, not coughing as much and able to tolerate a little less sedation without becoming agitated. He sometimes worried that she was in pain, but Kelly told him they watched for that by monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure, and Marshall trusted her enough to keep Mary from suffering. He stroked his partner's forehead as she frowned and realized the swelling of her face and hands had gone down significantly. Marshall decided that must be a good sign…he'd take anything at this point.

"Keep fighting, Mary," he'd say every night, "You're almost there. Come back to us."

He ran into Raph one night as he was arriving, surprised to see Mary's fiancé there so late. Marshall certainly hoped Raph was leaving as he wasn't planning to share his time with Mary.

"How are you holding up, Raph?"

"It's hard. I want her to wake up…but I guess that's what everyone wants. Have you been here every night?" eyeing Marshall with a look that wasn't quite clear as he gathered his things.

"Yes. I thought it would let you and her family rest better if you knew someone was with her during the nights."

Raph nodded and muttered, "Thanks" as he walked by Marshall to exit Mary's room. Stopping, he turned to the tall man and asked, "Do you think she'll want to go back to this job once she's recovered?"

The question was loaded with doubt, hope and just a frisson of fear. Marshall stared at him for a moment before replying.

"I have no doubt in my mind she will be back doing just that as soon as she can. It's who she is."

Raph gazed at Mary with a look of longing and sadness. "I've just been sitting here and thinking. I don't know if I could go through this again…knowing it might happen again. To watch her walk out the door everyday not knowing if she'll come home…"

There were a few minutes of silence from the two men, punctuated by the sounds of the machinery surrounding them. Marshall finally spoke.

"That's something you should spend a lot time thinking about Raphael. You can't live in fear…it'll destroy you both."

After a few more minutes of contemplation, Raphael just turned quietly and left, Marshall watching after him and noting Mary's fiancé hadn't even told her goodbye.

He took up his usual spot next to her bed and held her hand in his, "I'm not afraid, Mare."

***** Waiting, waiting, waiting...it's exhausting. Every baby step forward is small celebration. Please keep reviewing...it keeps me encouraged!! *****


	3. Superman tonight

***** Thank you for all your encouragement and reviews!! The waiting continues, but slow improvement finally. Thank you to my reader who suggested the song in the preface this time...you're right, it's a good fit! *****

***** Merry Christmas to all!! *****

* * *

Who's going to save you  
When the stars fall from your sky  
And who's going to pull you in  
When the tide gets too high  
Who's going to hold you  
When you turn out the lights  
I won't lie I wish that I  
Was that superman

---Superman Tonight, Bon Jovi

* * *

_HR: 95 NBP: 110/55 MAP: 73 RR: 14 SPO2: 99 Temp: 37.3_

_Fentanyl drip: 7.5ml/hr Propofol drip: 5ml/hr_

_One antibiotic, some electrolytes and fluids infusing. Liquid food slowly flowing into the feeding tube._

The central line in her neck was gone and Mary had two new IV lines in her left arm, the old ones removed. All other devices remained the same, and Marshall walked into the familiar environment ten days after her surgery tired and frustrated…feeling helpless and disheartened. He had wracked his brain for ideas to somehow comfort her or speed her recovery, to communicate with her and let her know he was here. His own thoughts had actually started to annoy him without Mary there to bounce things off of or debate his philosophical treatises. The mind could ramble, and his was especially prone to wandering. Marshall needed her, and he felt guilty for his sometimes selfish motivations.

Kelly hadn't been there for three nights and Marshall hadn't liked the nurse Mary had the night before. He was rough with his partner and called her 'sweetie', joking with Marshall while giving Mary her meds instead of paying attention to what he was doing. He spilled a whole cupful of medication on her gown and didn't even clean it up, leaving Marshall to ask the aide to change her gown the next time they turned Mary. His name was Charlie and Marshall was going to insist he didn't take care of his partner anymore. There wasn't much he could control in Mary's environment, but he was damned if anyone was going to mess with her. Part of his job was to protect her from the world and he never fell down on the job.

Thankfully, Kelly was back that night and Mary was her patient, so Marshall didn't have to stew about the problem for long as she walked into the room a few minutes after his arrival.

"Hey, Kelly. How's Mary doing today?"

"Hey yourself. She had a great day today. Got that line out of her neck, she's completely breathing on her own and the vent is only giving her a little bit of assistance with her volumes. Her fever is gone and her vitals have really calmed down. We're weaning the sedation off, keeping the pain medicine on, and as soon as she wakes up some more and does some tricks, we may be able to get that tube out of her throat. The girl is strong to bounce back so fast." Kelly had a big grin on her face and stroked Mary's head as she talked.

"You have no idea." Marshall had butterflies in his stomach with the good news and could see that Mary just looked a little more comfortable with some color in her cheeks today.

"Her family and Raph were trying to get her to wake up for them this evening, but she wasn't having any of it." Her nurse chuckled as she prepared some meds near the sink, "I swear I saw her scrunch her eyes shut to try to ignore them. Does she usually get along with them?"

Forgetting for a moment that Kelly worked a twelve hour shift that overlapped with all of Mary's visitors, Marshall wondered how she knew about Raph and her family. He sorted out his confusion and replied with a faint grin, "Depends on the day. Her mom and sister can be fairly overwhelming and demanding, and Raph isn't used to dealing with this kind of thing. I don't think he was counting on this."

Walking over to Mary, Kelly rested her hand on the woman's head, "I don't think anyone counts on this."

Nodding in agreement, Marshall watched Kelly give Mary her meds, take her vitals and measure all the fluid levels and rates for her notes. He decided to talk about Charlie.

"I hate to say this, but I really didn't care for her nurse last night. He just made me nervous."

She stopped charting to look at him directly with concern, "Oh? Was it anything in particular, or did you two just not click?"

"He was too rough with her and didn't cover her back up properly. I had to ask someone to change her gown after he spilled a whole cup of medicine on it and left it like that. It irritated me and I felt as though he was sloppy and disrespectful the whole night. She's a U.S. Marshal for godsake." His voice had gotten a little rough and his jaw clenched.

Kelly could see his distress and his objections were perfectly valid, "I understand. I'll talk to the charge nurse discreetly and she'll make sure he doesn't get assigned to her anymore. It's important that you're comfortable with who's taking care of her."

"Can you come every night?" Marshall joked.

Kelly barked a laugh, "My husband already whines about feeding the kids breakfast three days a week…he'd have a coronary if I made him do it everyday." she finished typing a few things then logged out and headed back to the core area, "Call me if Mary needs anything."

Marshall kissed Mary's cheek in a hello and suddenly realized it had become a habit over the last ten days. He'll have to quit that when she wakes up or end up sporting a black eye.

Settling into the chair he fell into the routine of telling her about his day and relaying any office gossip she would find especially amusing. He started reading, but the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator along with whirs of the pumps lulled him into a drowsy state, and within a half hour he found himself dozing and losing his place, so he set the book on the bed next to their hands and let his head rest back against the chair to catch some sleep while all was quiet.

Movement against his hand woke him sometime later and he blinked sleepily to look over for the source, eyes opening wider and sitting up as his brain registered what he saw. Mary was tugging on his finger and he looked up at her to find her gaze on him…actually seeing him. Marshall grabbed her hand and she lightly squeezed back as her brow furrowed.

"Mary…are you awake? Can you see me?" Marshall scooted to the edge of the chair so he could look at her closely. His heart was pounding about as hard as it did right before a take down went hot and he was sure there was a silly grin on his face. Hope and delight curled tentatively in his gut.

His partner stared at him for a moment more then nodded her head 'yes' twice as she squeezed his hand again and Marshall nearly lost all decorum right there in the room. He stood up and laughed out loud, then sat back down and pressed the call light while holding Mary's hand the whole time. He was blinking back tears as he met her eyes again.

"God, I'm glad to see you. It's about time you woke up from that nap."

There was a flicker of a glare that made him smile even harder and he dropped her hand to bring his up to smooth her hair. To his amazement, Mary reached up, briefly touched his face, weakly smiled and he just had to remember to breathe…every shred of anger or frustration he felt towards her over the events of the last couple of months fluttered away at the promise of this awakening.

Kelly entered the room to ask, "What do you need, Marshall?" and saw the tall man bending over her patient clearly excited about something.

"She's awake…really awake." whispered Marshall, as though a louder noise would chase Mary back into dreamland or shatter the tenuous reality of the moment.

Mary's hand had fallen back to the bed and Marshall held it again as Kelly came over to the bed to assess the responsive woman. Mary's eyes wobbled over to stare at her nurse as she appeared within her view.

"Well, hello there, Mary! How was your stay in Wonderland?" Kelly studied Mary's gaze and checked the vitals on the monitor.

"Mary, if you can hear me, blink your eyes twice." commanded Kelly.

Mary just looked at her for a minute and Marshall held his breath. Finally, his partner slowly blinked twice and moved her gaze back to him almost questionably.

"That's my girl." he murmured as he continued to grin.

Kelly was smiling too, and asked Mary to wiggle her toes and fingers, followed by requests to hold up two fingers and show a thumbs up. Her patient was slow to obey, but each command eventually prompted the correct response and Marshall thought it was the best birthday and Christmas present he had gotten all wrapped up in one.

Mary tried to shift herself in the bed and her face scrunched up in pain while her hand slid over to her abdomen. The movements caused her to cough and that just started a chain reaction of aggravation and agitation. Marshall became distressed and murmured encouragement to her while Kelly moved over to up Mary's sedation. It took a few minutes and many beeps and honks, but eventually Mary quieted as the propofol infused her system and she drifted back into unconsciousness. He was sad that she had to be put back under the sedation, but was relieved to see her comfortable again.

Her nurse spoke from near the IV pump as she waited for Mary to settle before titrating the drug back to a lower level, "That's perfectly normal…upsetting, but normal. The ET tube is going gag her whenever she moves her mouth or tries to swallow and that will make her cough…which will hurt her stomach…which makes her wince and then she's gagging again. She's not cognizant enough yet to understand what's happening and calm herself."

"What if she doesn't wake up again after you resedate her?" Marshall wasn't satisfied thinking that brief moment of communication was all he would be left with.

"She will. Now that she's emerged to consciousness, she won't slide back into a depressed state. It doesn't work like that. From now on, unless there's another major setback, when the sedation is turned down she'll wake up fully. It's a good thing…she has to be able to be awake before we can extubate her." Kelly was trying to reassure Mary's partner as he was still frowning. She slowly turned the medication back down to where it started as Mary remained calm.

"I'll bring a doc in with me at four o'clock when I do her next neuro assessment, that way he'll let the team know she may be ready to get that tube out tomorrow." Kelly smiled encouragement as she left the room again.

Watching Mary carefully for any sign of distress and not wanting to make any noise that could wake her again, Marshall texted Stan and Eleanor a simple message: 'Mary woke up. Followed commands'. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night and knew they wouldn't either. Thinking for a moment, he decided to refrain from notifying her family as he was sure they would see for themselves in the morning, and if they knew now would likely come charging in to see her. He wasn't going to have his time interrupted and Mary disturbed.

There was no way he would fall back to sleep before four a.m., so Marshall picked up the book and began to read to Mary again, keeping his voice low and steady so he wouldn't wake her.

* * *

Marshall stayed the next morning because Mary's team had decided to extubate her and see if she'd breathe adequately without the ventilator. The attending physician explained the process to them and what they would be looking for. He was confident Mary would do well as she had passed a series of ventilator challenges earlier that morning and was still following commands when awake. If anything went wrong, she could be re-intubated quickly and they would wait a few more days to try again. Marshall sent up a silent prayer for everything to go right for once.

He, Raph and Mary's mother and sister sat in the waiting room while Mary's ET tube was removed inside the unit. The nurse said she'd come out to get them when Mary was settled.

"So, you really saw her wake up, Marshall?" Brandi asked excitedly, "She looked at you and wiggled her fingers and everything?"

"Yep. She even smiled a little."

"Did she say anything?" asked Jinx.

For about the thousandth time, Marshall wondered if Mary's mother's elevator went all the way to the top and tried to keep his voice neutral and friendly as he replied.

"With the breathing tube still in, she can't talk even if she wanted to. It goes down through her vocal cords."

Jinx looked shocked and put her hand to her chest, "Oh! I didn't realize that. I thought it just pushed air into her mouth. My poor Mary."

"Mom, they told us that, remember?" Brandi looked annoyed, "You keep forgetting all the stuff they tell us about."

"Well…there's a lot going on, young lady. I have to try to remember all these words that just sound like gobbledygook , Mary looks awful and I just know she wouldn't want people to see her like that, it's hard having to come here everyday without getting enough sleep…I'm just a little worn out. Can't you see how hard this is for me?" Jinx blinked back a few tears as her voice trailed off pathetically.

Marshall and Raph actually shared of moment of commiseration as they rolled their eyes at Jinx's antics and drama. Brandi comforted her mother and led her over towards the door.

"Why didn't you call me last night?" Raph asked Marshall as the women were out of earshot.

Marshall knew that would come up and gave a noncommittal answer, "Her nurse assured me she would wake up again today, and since it was two in the morning, I thought I'd be considerate to everyone and tell you when you got here. She didn't wake up again last night, so even if you had come in she would've just slept." Raphael looked annoyed, but Marshall turned his attention to his Blackberry in order to retrieve some emails as a distraction.

"Why did you stay today, Marshall? You'll see her tonight again, I'm sure, and you could talk to her then." Raph wasn't going to leave it alone, but Marshall nipped it in the bud with a hard sideways glance at the man.

"She's my partner and my friend and she'd want me to stay…just as she'd want you to be here too. And who knows, she may have information about the shooter that's important."

"I thought you got the guy."

"We caught the alleged gunman, but it's complicated and there're pieces missing." a cryptic answer, but the only one Raph was getting.

"I don't want you upsetting her with all sorts of details about the shooting and the investigation. She really needs to just rest and not think about any of that." Raph himself didn't want to think about any of it, and he knew Mary would jump right into a discussion with her partner if the subject was brought up.

The hairs on the back of Marshall's neck bristled at Raph's proprietary statement and his fingers stilled on his phone. If that man thought he was going to dictate Marshall's interactions with Mary he was in for a rude awakening. Marshall also realized Raph did not know Mary very well if he thought she would be satisfied to just rest and let questions wait for another day.

"I assure you, Raph, the moment she was awake enough to understand what was going on, she was already thinking about the situation and she'll be firing questions at me before I get two feet through that door." Marshall's gaze fell on the man in the other chair, "She reads me like a book and there's no way I can lie to her or withhold information…nor would I want to."

Raphael held Marshall's gaze and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees.

"She's mine to take care of, Marshall. I'm not going to let you hurt her or hinder her recovery."

Raph was lucky he was out of reach as the words came out of his mouth. He wasn't being threatening or confrontational, if fact, Marshall actually thought he was sincere in his concern for Mary. But the continuing implication that Mary somehow belonged to him and Marshall was a threat grated on his nerves.

A tight smile on his face, Marshall replied, "Why don't you tell her that Raph? It would be interesting to see her response." he continued to stare at the man until Raph broke the contact and leaned back in the chair to cross his arms and stare at the wall.

The discussion finished, Marshall went back to his email and tried to jack his emotions back down to a non-lethal level.

Finally, after about a half hour, Mary's nurse came out to tell them that everything was going very well. Mary was breathing fine on her own with just some oxygen through a nasal cannula. They were warned that she was using most of her energy to just breathe right now as it was a relatively new activity after having ventilator help for so long, so not to expect her to say much more than a word or two and don't over stimulate her.

Marshall decided he wanted some time to himself to take this new information in and let all the stress and frustration from the last two weeks slowly roll away a bit before he went in to see his partner. He told her family and Raph that he would wait here until they took a break and then he'd visit her. Raph looked relieved and thanked him.

Marshall had her back…now he just needed to figure out how to keep her.

***** Raph doesn't even know he's lobbing grenades at Marshall, does he? I guess when Marshall shoves one down his throat it might become clear? :) Please keep reviewing!!! Please...press the button now, I know you want to! *****


	4. Rise to Find the Sun

***** Time to catch Mary up. Now that she's awake, we need to check in with her experience so the story can proceed. I'm so glad you are all enjoying so far! *****

**

* * *

**May it be the shadows call  
Will fly away  
May it be you journey on  
To light the day  
When the night is overcome  
You may rise to find the sun

---May It Be, Enya

* * *

It felt like a red hot zipper pulled from her gut through her back and she was stunned…then falling backwards with no thought to stopping herself.

The ground was hard and she gasped once before closing her eyes as the pain set in. Limbs paralyzed with the shock, Mary could only helplessly listen to the chaos around her as she burned from the inside out.

"Mary! Mary!" Dershowitz was calling her name as he approached, then talking quickly as he radioed for help.

Many hands touching her and many voices speaking but she could not respond…could not even think. The burning had become cold and was creeping outward. She was scared. Scared because she somehow knew the coldness was consuming her and if she succumbed there would be no coming back.

"_Marshall, I need you!_" A desperate cry from her subconscious mind as the blackness descended.

Light behind her eyelids as awareness again intruded on the silence. Someone talking in her ear and she tried to concentrate through the roaring in her mind. Marshall.

"…not time for you to go. Let them help you. Hang on…"

The voice suddenly gone again and she wanted to shout for him. Jostling movement and pain as she was moved onto another surface with more hands tugging at her and her head turned and extended backwards. Garbled and disjointed words, but not Marshall this time.

"…Thirty eight year old female, through and through GSW to the abdomen in hemorrhagic shock with profound blood loss. Tachy at 138, BP 80/44, CPR en route with two amps of epi, unable to intubate. LOC at the scene, pupils equal and reactive, otherwise unresponsive…"

"_Oh my God, it hurts…it hurts…it hurts…._" she wanted to tell them to stop and wait. They were moving too fast and now she couldn't breathe. Words, phrases in voices she didn't understand and no one was explaining anything, no one was helping her. Something in her mouth, gagging her, and Mary was suffocating but could do nothing but silently beg for it to stop as the world faded to black again.

Floating now, Mary sighed as her mind quieted and the burning coldness drifted away. Free.

_It looked like the Jersey Shore, but there wasn't a soul to be seen in any direction._

_The Atlantic lapped at the sand under her feet; the warm, foamy waves caressing her ankles before receding back into the ocean, and Mary walked towards the horizon with no direction in mind._

_Shells…thousands of shells decorated the sand and glistened as they beckoned her to examine them for hidden treasure. _

_Kneeling down, Mary picked up a gracefully curved shell of ivory iridescence and ran her fingers lightly over the surface as the waves continued to hiss around her. No need to hurry, no sense of time passing, she turned the ornament over in her hands and admired its perfection._

"_Mary," her father's voice behind her drew her attention away from the shell, "It's time to go back."_

_She didn't turn around to see him, but stood and gazed out upon the waves while considering his words. They had no draw on her, just words floating away on the breeze and she continued to walk towards the horizon._

"_Mare."_

_Her steps halted as she heard her name._

"_Come on…" his voice was slow and soft and Mary turned around to look at him._

_Marshall smiled and held out his hand, "Come home."_

_She stepped towards him._

Searing pain dragging her back to semi-awareness in a world full of confusion. Still immobile, still blind but able to breathe now.

"…We got a stable rhythm back, but keep the epi ready, she's getting bradycardic. Keep the fluids wide open and give her two more units uncrossed. Get some levophed on board for that pressure and, Goddammit , somebody do something about that wound! She's spilling everything we give her onto the floor…"

She didn't want to feel anymore, didn't want to hear anymore, "_I'm just going to wait for Marshall_" her last thought before allowing night to fall.

********

"_But, Daddy, I want the red flowers!" the little, blond girl tugged at her father's hand to show him the desired arrangement._

"_Princess, your mommy likes the white ones and it's her birthday." His eyes were amused._

_Mary put her hands on her hips and tilted her head, "Daddy…__**I **__like the red ones. And you love me best, right?"_

_The man chuckled and reached down to tickle the little girl, "I love you more than all the flowers in the whole world!"_

_They walked home with two arrangements…one red and one white. _

_Three weeks later the little girl cried as her mother threw the wilted flowers into the street her daddy had driven down to never return. Mary never had red flowers in her house again._

Mary could hear herself breathing and wondered why it was so dark and quiet…listening. A rustle of pages turning then a quiet murmur that lured her attention and she tried to make out the words.

""She came of the highest landed gentry, yet she was not noble; she was gracious and pure and charitable, of a blameless life and character, insomuch that in these regards was she peer of the best lady in the land."…"

"_Seriously, Marshall… 'gracious, pure and charitable'?. You certainly aren't reading my personnel file._" Mary tried to listen more but drifted back into her own breathing.

*****

_Mary hated the Father-Daughter Dance posters. She hated everything about this new school, but when the posters began to appear it became a special level of hell for her. She tore two down before ending up in the principle's office and was given a lecture on respect for other people's property and vandalism. _

"_They haven't seen vandalism yet." she thought._

"_Hey, Skank!" the catcall came from behind her as she glared at a new poster and her veins began to race with adrenaline. The boy had singled her out since day one and she was in no mood to deal with him today. Mary ignored him and turned to walk away._

_He stepped in front of her, leering, "So…you gonna bring your Daddy to the dance?" the word 'Daddy' was drawn out lewdly._

"_You'll never father anything if you don't get the fuck out of my way, douchebag." _

_The boy was bigger than her, but that had never stopped her before and she stood her ground._

"_Your daddy is probably your uncle too, huh? Does he diddle you too?" he reached out to grope her breast._

_Mary decided to vandalize his face._

Hot. Stuffy. Mary's throat hurt and her head ached…her whole body ached and breathing was hard. She wanted to ask for some Tylenol but still couldn't move. Coughing, and the pain hit again making her wince. "_I can't breathe!_" she panicked and tried to reach the object blocking her mouth and throat. A cool hand restrained her and voices murmured while she considered how to escape.

Slowly the need to move faded and the urge to cough died down and she relaxed while drifting on the edge of sleep, trying not to completely give in as one voice continued speak near her and she wanted to listen. Memorizing the words to keep her going.

"…I miss you… I'm going to fight for you…stand by your side…I love you…"

******

_The woman stared at the sleeping man in the hospital bed and was sure she wouldn't have the strength to take another step closer to him as fear consumed her. So afraid that if she touched him he would disappear and she with him. He was her anchor…kept her from flying off the planet and suffocating in an airless void. _

_Her trembling fingers gently touched his hair and she closed her eyes in relief as he was real beneath her hand, solid and warm and alive. She rested her forehead against his and noticed a tear fall onto his cheek. Hers. She had cried many tears onto this man over the years, and he onto her. It was almost like pouring a little bit of your soul into another person for them to keep. _

_She had given him a lot to keep and all he ever asked for was more._

Everything was blurry and her eyes felt dry and unused. Mary blinked a few times and tried to understand what she was seeing and hearing. White ceiling in a darkened room, machines near the bed…she was in a bed. But this wasn't her house or her bed. Her arms and legs were leaden and she had to concentrate very hard to move even her fingers.

Why was she so tired? Where was this place and why were there so many objects on her…on her face? Almost becoming panicky again with the sense of choking, Mary gradually realized she was breathing with relative ease and it wasn't worth spending the energy to remove whatever was in her mouth.

A small sound to her right brought her gaze down and she stared at the figure sitting in slumber next to her bed, relief spreading through her as she recognized her partner.

"_Marshall! Marshall, wake up._" She tried to think him awake but it didn't work.

Mary needed him to wake up and could just see his hand resting on the bed at the edge of her vision. Putting serious thought into movement, she inched her hand over to his and pinched one of his fingers within hers, pulling slightly. The small action produced the desired result and she breathed a little faster as his eyes opened. It was like coming home after a long and dreadful trip, a calm and comforting feeling to fall into. She poured all her questions and worries into her relieved gaze.

"Mary…are you awake? Can you see me?" He looked surprised, scared and full of hope all at the same time as he gripped her hand.

Her slow nod made him smile so big that she thought she could actually feel the warmth of it caress her. Marshall laughed and his hand went to her hair while she smiled back as best she could. Mary had to touch him to make sure he was real, and she made the monumental effort to place two, trembling fingertips on his cheek. The look in his eyes was intense, but she was too groggy and confused to interpret it.

Someone else by the bed now and Mary slowly looked over. A woman with a kind smile greeted her and asked her to blink her eyes. It was an odd request, but the woman looked so hopeful she tried to follow her direction as best she could, then looked back at Marshall for reassurance.

"That's my girl." The phrase always caused her to tingle a little bit, though she'd never admit it, and this time it encouraged her to focus on what the woman was saying again. While slowly following directions, Mary realized the woman was a nurse…her nurse. Why was she in the hospital? What happened?

Her back hurt and she shifted her weight to relieve it only to suddenly attempt to gasp with the knifelike pain that shot through her midsection. The thing in her throat made her gag and she coughed, only sufficing to increase the amount of pain radiating through her torso and Mary was suddenly overwhelmed with unpleasant sensations. Grabbing Marshall's hand for help, she could only squeeze her eyes shut as her body was wracked with coughs.

Ever so slowly, the coughing subsided as her limbs again began to tingle and suffuse with warmth. She couldn't hold Marshall's hand anymore and mourned the loss of his comfort as she slipped back under the blanket of darkness.

***** A disjointed and terrifying experience, I can only imagine. Random memories and odd sensations would make the whole thing dreamlike. I can only beg for reviews ;) Please keep them coming!! *****

*****Marshall was reading from A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. *****


	5. Sound of Pretenses Falling

***** Finally back in the world of the living, we continue to stick with Mary as she slowly reorients. Trouble brewing... *****

* * *

Enough about me, let's talk about you for a minute  
Enough about you, let's talk about life for a while  
The conflicts, the craziness and the sound of pretenses  
Falling all around...all around

---All I Really Want, Alanis Morrissette

* * *

_HR: 92 NBP: 112/68 MAP: 83 RR: 13 SPO2: 100% Temp: 37.4_

_Fentanyl: 5 ml/hr Propofol: off Fluids running slowly, electrolytes and food through the feeding tube._

_Two IVs in her left arm._

"Mary….Mary, open your eyes." A woman's voice intruded on her dreams and there was an annoying pressure against her breastbone.

Mary was aware that time had passed since…what was it that happened? Marshall. She had seen Marshall somewhere…it was such a tenuous memory and she chased it with the intent to think about it some more. The pursuit was denied her by the insistent rubbing on her sternum and the voice demanding her attention. Other sounds were coming into focus also.

"Marshal Shannon. Wake up…come on, Mary. Open your eyes."

Irritated now, Mary concentrated on trying to peer at the offending person while reaching up to weakly swat at whatever was poking her. The world was very bright and she squinted against the onslaught of light.

"Kill those lights, Plisco. We can see her well enough with the curtains open."

Mary was able to open her eyes more with the less noxious stimuli and gazed quizzically at the woman in her field of vision. A young, Asian girl she didn't know who had a smile on her face. Was she supposed to know this person? Why was this girl waking her up? Was she late for work? Too many thoughts running through her mind, and then she was further distracted by gaining purchase of the woman's arm that had been poking her chest.

"Ah, there she is!" a man's voice now as a doctor moved up to look at her too. That triggered a vague memory of a nurse asking her to move and blink. Mary decided these people needed to answer some questions and tried to talk.

She was choking again, and Mary tried to put both hands up to her face to remove the object in her mouth. The nurse and doctor both grabbed an arm and were trying to get her attention as she struggled to save herself from suffocation.

"Mary…stop. You're okay! Take a breath…breathe. You can breathe. Look at me!" the young woman coaxed Mary to settle and focus on her.

Eyes wide, Mary finally tried to listen to what they were saying and stared at the nurse while slowly realizing she could actually breathe even though her mouth was blocked.

"I'm going to sit you up in the bed. You keep breathing nice and slowly, okay? If it hurts, just squeeze my hand and we'll stop and rest. Do you understand?"

Mary nodded yes and swallowed carefully so she wouldn't gag. Her nurse used the bed controls to ease Mary into a semi sitting position, stopping once to let the woman adjust to the sensation before continuing to the acceptable angle.

Mary was a little dizzy and slightly nauseous for a minute. Her gut burned, but overall she felt warm and slightly fuzzy. She clung to the nurse's hand and slowly let her eyes wander about the room as she now had a better view. Definitely a hospital…there were IV poles and she had ugly pajamas on. The machine to her left was odd and she noted the tubes that she could just see out of the corner of her eye led over to it. When she took a deep breath, so did the machine. They had her on a ventilator and she just stared at it in shock.

What the hell had happened? The last thing she remembered was Francesca trying to get her to dance at that restaurant. Questions began to tumble through her mind and her breathing picked up a bit as she began to worry with the loss of time and memory.

"Mary…focus on me." The nurse called her attention again and she was startled out of her reverie, "My name is Erin and this is Will." Erin indicated another man standing near the ventilator who smiled and waved. "Dr. Plisco is here too and we're going to get that tube out of your mouth. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Mary nodded yes as she realized this was probably not going to be comfortable. Everyone was being too nice and there were too many people in the room for it to be something simple.

"Take a deep breath for me. I want make sure you can do that." Mary obliged and Will adjusted something on the ventilator that made her feel a little odd. She took a breath again and it was a little harder, but Will seemed satisfied with what he was seeing on the ventilator and spoke to the doctor as they watched the display screen.

"She's been pulling great tidal volumes and auto-peeping. I've had the PSV all the way down to five for over an hour. I say we let her fly."

"She looks good to me neuro wise. Okay, you guys let me know if she crumps." Plisco left the room with those instructions.

"_Sitting right here!"_ thought Mary, becoming irritated with the way everyone was talking about her without talking to her.

Erin must've been reading her thoughts, "Sorry Mary, we had to focus on the numbers there for a minute. Here's what we're going to do now..." She was putting together a couple of little tubes and devices while talking and Mary was a little anxious. If anyone said 'this isn't going to hurt' she was going to smack them.

"Will and I are going to peel that tape off your cheeks gently. It will pull some, but we already soaked it so it should come off fairly easily. I'll adjust that breathing tube a little bit, and then were going to ask you to take a deep breath and cough. We'll pull it out when you cough. It's going to be uncomfortable and your throat is going to be sore. Does that make sense?"

Mary was actually more relaxed now that Erin told her it was going to hurt. She appreciated the honesty. Nodding again, she gave Will a thumbs up and he chuckled. They swiftly removed the tape, Will did something with a little syringe that caused a tickling feeling in her throat and then she was taking a deep breath and coughing…and gagging as the tube slid out of her mouth. Mary was pretty sure it was a little bit like being born; wonderful and painful at the same time.

Erin used a little tube to suction out her mouth and throat and it made her gag some more and she pulled her head away while pushing at Erin's arm. Sounds were coming out as she coughed now and Erin let her catch her breath. Will gently put a little tube around her head that rested right below her nose…oxygen, she realized.

Mary closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. It was a little harder than being on the machine, but her chest didn't feel tight and there was enough air coming in. Her mouth felt about a thousand years old and she cleared her throat a couple more times. The monitor over her head was chiming softly and Erin was watching it.

"Good job, Mary. Keep taking some deep breaths. Will, can you crank that up to six liters? She just needs to catch up."

Within a few minutes, Mary felt like her breathing had settled into a rhythm and the chiming on the monitor stopped. She opened her eyes again and Will was dismantling the ventilator tubing and unplugging the machine from the wall. He smiled at her and winked.

"You're not going to need this thing anymore, Mary. You're doing great. I'll get it out of here to make more room for friends and family."

Mary smiled weakly at him and swallowed with a wince and another small cough. She noticed the coughing actually hurt her stomach and put her hand over her abdomen to rub it. There was padding in the way and the area was tender. More questions ran through her mind and she tried to ask Erin what happened.

"Wha…wha…" the word wouldn't come out as her voice was barely a whisper and it took a lot of effort to force the air past her vocal cords…it also hurt.

Erin noticed the effort as she was cleaning up some supplies Mary no longer needed and keeping a watch on the newly extubated woman to make sure her oxygen levels remained steady.

"It's going to be really hard to talk for a little while. That tube has been in there for almost two weeks so your vocal cords are little traumatized. Just take it slow, and I'll get you some sponges and ice chips."

Mary stared at her. Two weeks? She needed Marshall back in here to give her some answers. Mary had no sense of time or place right now and it was distressing…a whole chunk of her life was missing. The tight grip of control she usually kept on reality had apparently been pried from her and she was feeling a mixture of anger, betrayal and fear.

What had she done? What had been done to her? Was anyone else hurt? She knew Marshall was okay as she saw him recently, but what about her family and Raph? Stan?

"Mary…are you all right? Your heart rate's kicking up a bit." Erin's question brought Mary back to the present and she looked at the nurse with a little confusion, "Are you having trouble breathing, or are you just a little upset?"

"Upset." Mary whispered. You had to be honest when you could only get one word out at a time.

"Are you hurting?" Erin asked.

Mary shook her head no. She ached, but it wasn't bad enough to bother her.

"Good. You've got pain medicine on a drip right now. It's fentanyl…the good stuff. If you need more, you just ask. Don't try to be stoic or stubborn because if you allow yourself to get into too much pain you won't be able to breathe well. I know you don't want to go back on that machine. Are we clear on this?"

Her nurse was giving her a stern look and Mary smiled as she agreed. She definitely did not want to go back on the ventilator. The pain medicine had a pleasant feel to it, and she was able to think clearly enough, so she'd let herself be pampered for a while.

Erin came over to the bed and wiped Mary's face with a cool, wet towel to clean off all the remaining gunk from the ET tube and holder while reassuring her about her recovery. She then gently placed a pillow over Mary's stomach and had her wrap her arms around it. She gave Mary the plan, "I'm going to lower your bed a bit again as you'll wear out sitting up this high pretty quickly. Press that pillow against your stomach whenever we move to keep your wound from hurting too much. Are you ready?"

Wound? More questions. Mary nodded to Erin and squeezed the pillow weakly as her nurse lowered her to a semi-reclining position. Her head was still raised, but the muscles in her lower back and her ribs relaxed a bit and she felt better. Erin had a tooth brush, and Mary weakly and gratefully restored some order to her abused mouth. Even that small taste of independence went a long way to comfort her.

"Okay, Miss Shannon. You are set to go. You've got a gaggle of people out there waiting to see you and they're going to mutiny soon if I don't go out there to let them in. You're in control, so if you want me to clear everyone out at any time, you just call me and let me know. Don't let them wear you out." Her nurse placed her call light next to her hand and made sure she knew how to use it.

"Okay." another successful whisper.

Bracing herself for the expected onslaught of her family, Mary hoped she'd get some explanations and answers soon.

* * *

It was good to see their faces. Mary didn't usually welcome the attentions of Jinx and Brandi, but with all the confusion surrounding her awakening in the strange room with the strange people, even the normally ulcer producing visages of the drama queens relieved her.

Raph was with them and she was happy to see him too, smiling at the man and receiving a sad, smaller smile in return. All three of them were slightly nervous and a bit too cheery for her to completely relax. Something significant had happened to her to make these three more clingy and falsely appeasing than they usually were, and that thought was only reinforced when Raph would only hold her hand instead of letting her pull him down for a kiss.

"Wow, Mary," said Brandi as she gently sat on the edge of her sister's bed, "You look great…you really do. It's so good to see you awake…" her voice caught and the inevitable tears from her overly emotional baby sister began to flow.

"Oh, Sweetie," gushed her mother, moving to Mary to stroke her head, "You just rest and get better now. Don't worry about anything. Pretty soon you'll be home and I'll take care of you."

Mary pulled her head away from Jinx's hand reflexively and grimaced at the thought of being taken care of by her mother. Jinx also had tears in her eyes, and Mary turned her eyes to the one visitor in the room who was still emotionally neutral.

"Raph," she whispered, "what happened?"

Within a second, Mary knew he was going to be evasive and added a warning, "Tell me the truth." She pinned him with her stare and he frowned in thought.

"You were shot. I don't know much else. Marshall can't, or won't, tell me anything." he looked resigned and frustrated.

"When? Where?"

"Eleven days ago in the Barrio." Raph sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "Mary, I really don't want to talk about it yet. You're finally awake and getting better after a long and hard recovery. Can we just talk about us and you and…not work stuff?"

"Yeah, Mary, let me tell you what Peter and I are planning on doing in a few weeks." began Brandi as she composed herself, "We're going on a cruise!" Jinx and Brandi squealed and clapped their hands and Mary was distracted by her enthusiasm for a moment. The pain medicine made it slightly difficult to concentrate on one topic for too long.

Brandi took her smile as encouragement and regaled Mary with details of the upcoming vacation and her hesitations about being on a ship for the next fifteen minutes. Mary kept looking over at Raph sitting in the chair and his face remained serious while he watched her sister.

"…and it would be fun to have your wedding there, Mary." Brandi's words penetrated her mind like a needle and Mary looked back over at her sister with a frown.

"What?"

"In the islands, Sweetie," said Jinx as if to a small child, "You know…outside in the sand under a tropical sky. You and Raph could have a beautiful wedding there. What do you think, Raphael?"

Mary was probably the only one who saw Raph wince. She stared at her fiancé as a whirlwind of thoughts rattled her brain and refused to settle down to give her a clue as to his state of mind. He answered Jinx with a forced smile.

"That sounds really nice. My mother wouldn't have to travel as far either. We'll definitely think about it, right Mary?" turning to look at her.

She met his eyes with her own tight smile, "Right."

The talk turned to trivial matters again and Mary was able to slowly glean some details of her shooting and hospital stay. She was shocked by the news her heart had stopped, and irritated by Jinx's comment about plastic surgery for the scars she would surely carry from her injuries. It was difficult to wrap her mind around the fact that she had been in this bed for nearly two weeks and had no recollection of it.

Mary suddenly found herself drifting into her own thoughts as disjointed pieces of memory flitted through her mind. Maybe they were dreams. It was hard to remember exact details, but she was sure there were a few significant events. It was something to think about when she wasn't so tired.

Her eyes floated shut and she dimly heard Raph's voice.

"Mary is tired, ladies. Why don't you go out and keep Marshall company for a while. I will spend some time here with Mary alone."

The mention of Marshall's name and the knowledge he was here perked her back into wakefulness.

"Marshall's here?"

Raph ignored her question and moved his chair closer to her to take her hand, "Mary, I was so scared. I thought I might lose you and I felt so sad and lonely. There was nothing I could do."

Mary didn't know what to say. She had never been any good at comforting people, and right now she felt like she needed a little comforting herself. She held his hand as he continued.

"I could not protect you. How do you think that made me feel to know you were put into a position where I could not protect you? Twice now I've had to watch you suffer after injury and it breaks my heart, Mary."

"I don't ask you to protect me, Raph." The words were quiet due to her shaky voice. She was torn between feeling sorry for him and being pissed. He was twisting this around to be about him, but yet she understood his feelings of powerlessness and where that would stem from. "That's not your job." Mary tried to smile to make him feel better.

Raph leaned in slightly, "But I want it to be my job. When a man loves a woman he usually protects her...cares for her. You are a difficult woman to do that for."

"So I've been told." Words from a dusty gas station echoed distantly in her mind, and Mary had to force herself to focus on the man in front of her.

"I don't want to see you hurt again, Mary." The statement was weighted with implications and unasked questions.

"I can't promise you won't."

Raphael stared at her for a minute or two then dropped his gaze to his lap. Mary had a sinking feeling he was evaluating their relationship based on the dangers of her job and she did not have the presence of mind to get into that assuredly heated debate right now. No energy for much other than breathing, listening and thinking. Eyelids heavy again.

He suddenly rose and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"You need to rest, querida. I will be back later to see you again. I'll bring some flowers."

"Not red." said Mary sleepily as she let herself drift away.

* * *

Raph left the floor without returning to the waiting room. He wanted Mary to get her rest, and a part of him didn't want Marshall in there just yet. He had heard the nurses talking about how calm Mary had been during the nights when her partner was with her...how her restlessness decreased and her breathing eased. The flash of anger in Marshall's eyes earlier today when Raph warned him against upsetting Mary was telling. The man was used to making his own rules in his relationship with Mary, but Raph was now realizing he would have to assert some control over that if he was ever going to have Mary look at him as her source of comfort and solace. He wondered if that was even possible; to temper the partners' relationship and pull it back to a casual friendship. It had become too much more, he knew, and Mary turned to Marshall when she should turn to him.

There were decisions to wrestle with and discussions to be had. He could not force Mary to choose **him**, but he may have to ask her to choose. This was becoming harder than it should be and time was running out.

*****

***** I feel like the theme song to Rocky should be playing when Raph and Marshall end up in the same room from now on ;) *Ding ding* Anybody want to find out how her reunion with Marshall goes?...Keep reading and please keep reviewing! *****

***** PSV = pressure support ventilation: the patient initiates their own breaths and fills their lungs themselves (with backup in case they're too weak)*****

***** auto-peep = the body's usual practice of leaving a little air in the lungs after expiration to prevent collapse. Ventilator dependent patients don't do this. *****


	6. Heal our Wounds

***** Mary learns more about her medical state...and finally...Marshall arrives :) *****

* * *

"We shall heal our wounds, collect our dead and continue fighting"

– Mao-Tse Tung

* * *

Mary was awakened by a stocky man in scrubs who wore glasses that screamed "Walgreens". The events of the morning flew through her mind in the few moments it took to reorient herself to her surroundings. Erin walked into the room behind the man and began to prepare some meds after saying hello to Mary. The clock on the wall read eleven a.m.

Holding out his hand, the man introduced himself, "Miss Shannon, so good to see you awake and breathing on your own! I'm Dr. David Stroop, your surgeon. I got the call this morning that you were extubated, but I really didn't expect to see you looking quite this good."

She shook his hand with her reply, "Thanks for your confidence."

Her voice was a little stronger now and her throat not quite as painful. There was still that annoying little tube in her nose that tickled, but otherwise she felt considerably more human than earlier this morning. Mary attempted to shift her weight slightly and winced at the now familiar pain that resulted.

"Has anyone told you about your wound and surgeries?" Stroop asked after she finished positioning herself.

"No. Please enlighten me, and don't sugar coat it." her steady gaze pinned him.

"You took a bullet to the abdomen, through and through. One of the luckiest people I've seen in while, because it missed your major vessels by about two centimeters. If it had caught those, you would've been dead before the EMTs arrived. As it was, there was considerable damage to your duodenum and nicks to your liver and smaller arteries in your abdomen as the slug bounced around a bit before exiting to the right of your spine. Again…lucky you escaped a spinal cord injury. I took about a two inch section of your duodenum out, removed a small piece of your liver and the whole gall bladder, and then was able to stabilize the damaged arteries. You're a strong lady, Mary. Not many people could've lost that much blood and sustained those injuries and survived, much less be awake, breathing and digesting two weeks later. I'm impressed, and I don't impress easily."

Mary was shocked…just stunned as her injuries were listed by the surgeon. She could feel her gut burning, and now understood why her back hurt too.

"They said…said my heart stopped?" still raspy, the words stuttered as she tried to ask the question.

The doc hesitated for a second, but answered gently, "Yes…twice, actually. Once in the ambulance, then again in the ER after you arrived. We were worried about your brain for a while, but everything seems to be working right. Would you agree?"

Reeling, Mary shrugged, "I can't remember the shooting."

"That's completely normal. Please don't stress about that, you may never regain memory surrounding the event. The body shuts the higher brain down when it goes into survival mode."

Dr. Stroop gestured to Mary's stomach as he announced, "I'm going to ask your nurse to help me change the dressings on your wounds so I can see how you're healing."

Erin smiled encouragingly as she saw the doubt on Mary's face, "I'll give you a little extra pain medicine before we start, Mary, so it'll be more comfortable."

The pain med went into her IV and she would've giggled with the feeling if she wasn't so worried about the dressing change. Muzzy now, she blindly obeyed the surgeon and nurse's directions as they had her roll on her side to get to the exit wound in the middle of her back. Other than hurting her abdomen to turn and the sting of tape being peeled off, the back wound didn't seem very painful.

"This looks really good, Miss Shannon. We didn't need to graft it and it's holding the stitches well. You'll have a scar about four inches long, but it should be fairly faint since our plastics guy is good at what he does."

"Great." Was all she could whisper between trying to process the info and breathe as she was getting tired of holding herself on her side.

Erin and Dr. Stroop helped her roll onto her back after applying a new dressing, and the doc explained her abdominal wound as Erin slowly took down that dressing.

"Your initial surgery was emergent, and I couldn't take the time to limit my incision. I opened you from sternum to pubis," he drew an imaginary line on his own stomach to indicate the position, "and since there was so much swelling from the severity of the injury I couldn't completely close the wound. I was able to suture the muscle layer, but the skin was left open to heal slowly on its own. I also placed two small drains to help keep the fluid from building up in your abdomen as the wound healed. You have very little body fat, so the incision is fairly shallow, and if it looks good today I'll probably take you back to the OR briefly tomorrow or the next day to pull those drains and suture you shut the whole way."

Mary closed her eyes as she now felt pretty much like a gutted fish or an ornamental fountain. She didn't mind scars, had accrued quite a few over the years, but there was just a squirmy feeling involved when she thought about her open wound. She knew Raph wouldn't like it and that bothered her for some reason.

Erin was doing something that actually tickled a bit, and she opened her eyes again to assess the situation. Dr. Stroop pressed gently on her abdomen surrounding the incision and Mary sucked in a breath while she clenched her fists. Erin rubbed her arm soothingly.

"Good…great. I know it's tender, but it looks clean, the swelling is gone and there's no infection. These drains are hardly emptying any more, so we'll get that closed in the next few days, Mary." He went over to deglove and then wash his hands as Erin began to redress her wound, "Erin, you can pull that feeding tube. She should be able to tolerate a liquid diet now."

"Can I answer anymore questions for you before I go?" the surgeon directed the comment to Mary.

Mary rolled her head over to look at him, "When can I go home?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "I knew you were going to be a hard customer. At least a week more in the hospital, Miss Shannon, and I don't barter."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "We'll see."

Dr. Stroop was still chuckling as he left the room.

Mary slept again for a while after Erin took out her feeding tube and finished the dressing change, wondering briefly if Marshall was going to come and see her and feeling irritated about her complete lack of endurance. Every muscle in her torso, back and neck ached and all she had done is lie in a bed and roll on her side. She had never been this weak before and it was a bit alarming. How was she going to regain enough strength to get back into fighting form?

The question was partially answered about an hour later when physical therapy intruded on her nap and gently coaxed her to sit up on the side of the bed. It was an experience that unnerved her. Her sense of balance was shot, her abdominal muscles jelly and vertigo was the word of the day. They had to lightly support her for the ten minutes, and then she became too breathless to continue and was helped back into a reclining position.

Assured she would grow stronger each day, the evil duo promised to be back tomorrow to get her up to a chair. Mary hoped Marshall would bring her her gun so she could shoot them before they came in the door.

Her belly throbbed and she wondered if she should call Erin for some pain medicine. Taking a few deep breaths, Mary concluded her breathing was fine and decided to just rest for a while to see if the pain subsided now that she was no longer being tortured. A minute later she held her breath as her ears picked up a familiar sound and she smiled.

There was no mistaking those boots or that stride, her partner was approaching the room and she fumbled for the bed control to sit herself up just a bit more to see him. She thought it was odd that she was so excited about this visit, but brushed it aside as the familiar nasal drone commenced outside the curtained door as Marshall must be talking to the nurse.

"Get in here, you idiot." Mary put as much energy as she could into the command, and her voice must've been strong enough to carry because the curtain pulled aside almost immediately and Marshall stood in the doorway.

The partners assessed each other as emotions played across their faces.

Marshall noted her paleness and the darker circles under her eyes as Mary thought he looked slightly unkempt and tired.

He was so happy to see her awake and alive he could've kissed her.

She was so happy to see him standing in the doorway she could've kissed him.

Of course, neither followed through with the thought.

"You look like shit." Mary whispered, her voice heavy with emotion.

Marshall raised one eyebrow and grinned, "At least I don't look like Pippi Longstocking."

Mary's brow furrowed and her hand went to her hair, finding the braids that had been meticulously fixed each day by the nurse's aide.

"Oh, hell. That's just fucking perfect."

The annoyance and foul language could not have sounded better to Marshall's ears, and he walked into Mary's room with a smile on his face.

"That's what you get for checking out that long. You're lucky you didn't wake up with a tattoo of a hula girl on your bicep and an undesirable piercing." Marshall was pulling a chair over to her bedside. His heart was beating a little faster than normal and his hands a little shaky.

"Sure, take advantage while I'm unconscious." Her eyes narrowed at him while she caught her breath, "Sneak a peek, pervis?"

She was actually feeling somewhat embarrassed suddenly as she realized all the indignities of her situation, and her question had some weight of seriousness to it. Marshall heard it in her voice and made sure to alleviate her fears as he sat in the chair to finally visit with Mary. He held up the scout sign with his answer.

"Scout's honor, I saw nothing I haven't already seen. They kicked me out whenever they were going to uncover anything interesting."

He looked even more tired up close and Mary just knew he had spent many sleepless nights by her side, as she had done the same for him after his shooting. Vague recollections of his voice slid through her mind and she tried to capture the words but they disappeared quickly. Knowing how emotionally fragile she was when Marshall was in the hospital, Mary didn't want to trigger her partner's emotions unnecessarily and decided to steer the conversation away from her.

She remembered she wanted some answers and now was the time to get them.

"Did you catch the shooter?"

Marshall had watched concern and confusion flicker in her gaze for a moment before she asked the question, and he too knew to keep the conversation businesslike for now as Mary was trying to maintain control of her emotions.

His face became serious, "Maybe. We caught a shooter, but the crime scene was a mess and no one will talk. Francesca claimed to know nothing and was whisked away later in the day. The shooter claims no motivation other than the fact he didn't like you threatening his homey. It's not sitting well with anyone."

"Did I get a piece of him?" Mary had remembered firing her weapon, but it was just a gut sense of the motions.

"You got a piece of Mario, but he wasn't the shooter."

Mary was confused, "Who shot me, then?"

Marshall's tone turned angry as he talked, "A stain named G-Dog, aka George Jimenez. A wanna be in Lala's crew, but he's been hung out to dry by the boys. We found the slug from his gun in the side of the shed you were standing in front of…had your DNA on it."

Mary closed her eyes as she tried to remember anything about that night. As hard as she concentrated, nothing surfaced after her memories of Francesca in the restaurant. The look of anger on her partner's face as he talked about the case stuck with her. He must be carrying around an enormous amount of frustration and rage at not being able to collar all the perpetrators involved and she knew she would be howling and screaming at everyone to make progress if she were in his position. How would she be any help to Marshall if she couldn't dredge up more information for him? This useless feeling was growing as tiresome as her lack of physical ability.

He watched her face pinch in concentration as she closed her eyes and Marshall knew she was trying to recall some information for him. It was so good to be able to see her whole face and watch her expressions change as she was lost in thought. The sound of her voice and the familiar banter had him shedding layer after layer of fear and stress and he wanted to touch her to make sure she was still real. Her breathing picked up a bit and he noted the furrowing of her brow and downturn of her mouth. Marshall knew she was becoming upset and became concerned himself.

"Mare."

It was that simple word full of concern that triggered a small bundle of memories for Mary. Pain, panic, fear and a sense of…vanishing. Combined with the news from the surgeon this morning and the distressing absence of two weeks of her life, Mary knew she wasn't going to be able to hold it together for too much longer. She shuddered and opened her eyes to look at him for comfort.

Marshall saw the plea immediately and stood to take down the bed rail and sit beside her. He carefully reached around her shoulders and gently drew her to him, letting her head rest on his chest. Mary's hands crawled up his thighs to grip his belt loops and hold on.

She couldn't stop the sob from escaping as all the feelings of helplessness and frustration overwhelmed her. Her body was a stranger to her and hurt everywhere, her physical strength gone along with most of her dignity and she just wanted to go home. Another sob followed the first and Mary allowed herself to sink into her partner…just for a moment while she sought the comfort that had yet been offered to her.

His own eyes welled with tears as he tightened his arms to hold her against him securely, yet gently enough not to hurt her. Over a week's worth of tumultuous emotions rushed to the surface and he just concentrated on the feel of the woman within his embrace. She was warm and alive, breathing and crying and that was more than he thought he could hope for a week ago. Marshall closed his eyes as tears leaked out to trickle down his face.

"Shhh. It's okay…you're okay. I've got you." he murmured in an attempt to soothe them both.

They stayed that way for about ten minutes; Mary crying softly and Marshall gently stroking her back and hair as he tried to manage his own tears. Erin peeked in to check on her patient as her vital signs showed distress, but quickly let the curtain fall back after assessing the emotional scene. She would let them be unless they called or Mary's oxygen levels dropped.

Mary finally spoke into Marshall's chest, "I can't remember anything."

"That's all right. We didn't expect you to."

She took a shuddery breath, and Marshall could feel her leaning on him more as her strength was waning. He was about to coax her back into the bed when she spoke again in a whisper.

"I died."

His chest hurt and he hugged her a little closer. Mary just hung on, tethered by Marshall's arms and wishing his strength could pass into her.

"You are very much alive."

The statement drew her back from her dark thoughts and focused her on the roughness of his jacket against her cheek, the warmth of his hands on her shoulder and back and the smell of his aftershave. Sensations that truly proved she was alive and nowhere near the void she had almost fallen into.

Knowing she wasn't going to be able to sit up any longer, Mary released Marshall and he settled her back into the bed and helped her adjust the pillows as she composed herself.

"I was instructed not to upset you. I guess that piece of advice was wasted." He remained sitting next to her on the bed.

"The nurse **is** a little protective."

Marshall smiled, "They've been great…taken stellar care of you. It was actually Raph that gave me the warning. He's feeling especially protective."

Mary gave her partner a sideways look as she tried to imagine how that particular conversation had gone and how her fiancé had escaped unscathed.

She huffed, "I think he's having second thoughts."

He looked at her carefully as she gazed downward with pursed lips, drifting away in thought again as she fiddled with the buttons on his jacket sleeve, "You okay?"

She shrugged, "I was having third and fourth thoughts before this even happened, so I guess it's only fair."

Marshall couldn't help it…couldn't squash the bloom of satisfaction that unfurled inside him at her words. The door was open, and Mary was unsure as to what side she going to stand on when it closed again. He needed to tread carefully; not push her into any decisions, but definitely encourage her to think this through as she would have plenty of time to think for a while.

"He was still taking in the whole reality of our job when this hit. Even knowing it could happen, **I** had a hard time with the waiting and stress. I can only imagine what it was like for him. I think he's scared."

"He can't live in fear." Mary echoed Marshall's thoughts from a few days prior, "I have a feeling he's going to ask me to quit."

"Would you?"

Mary looked up to meet his gaze and saw something she had glimpsed a few times before during their partnership. A vulnerability that made her heart ache…the fear that she would leave him alone.

"You even have to ask that?" she raised her eyebrows at him.

Marshall remained serious, "After this…yes. This sort of thing can change you."

Mary smiled and squeezed his forearm, "It doesn't change **us**. You'll have to try a lot harder to score a new partner. You're stuck with me, Cowboy."

"I guess I'll have to tell Eleanor to take all those decorations off your desk then." his lips quirked into a smile again.

"Damn woman probably wiped my hard drive already."

They allowed the cloak of reassurance to settle around them and Marshall reached out to briefly lay his hand on the side of her face. Mary let him. Standing, he pushed the chair back to the corner as he spoke.

"I have to get into the office and you need to rest. I've been crashing in here at night, so I'll be back around eleven or so."

More flashes of memories flickered through her head as Mary protested.

"You don't have to sleep here, Marshall. Go home and get a good night's rest. I'll be fine here by myself." All the talking was catching up with her and she sighed with effort.

Marshall wasn't ready to give up the sentinel duty just yet.

"**I** wouldn't be fine. I'll see you later, Mare."

Mary watched him leave and immediately felt a little lonely. She took a sip of the water Erin had provided, lowered the head of her bed a bit and painfully maneuvered herself into a semi-comfortable state. Sleep was elusive as the twinges of pain continued to make her wince and she could still smell Marshall's aftershave on her and missed him. Pushing the call light, she asked Erin for some extra pain meds and her nurse was quick to return with the promised dose.

Mary groaned in relief as the drug sped through her system, not realizing how tightly she had been holding herself over the last hour or so. Her eyes finally shut and the whispers of dreams surrounded her.

*****

***** Yay...Marshall!! It's going to drive Mary nuts that she can't just jump right back up and get back in the game. I hope I satisfied most of you with the reunion...please review!! *****


	7. Are You Ready?

***** Stan and Eleanor get to visit, and gaps must be filled for Mary on the investigation. Raph is still a butt. *****

* * *

Sit down, are you ready for this?  
Shut up, are you ready for this?  
Stand up, are you ready for this?  
This game  
Are you ready?

--- Are You Ready?, Three Days Grace

* * *

Stan and Eleanor dropped by to visit around 6:30pm and Mary was very glad to see them. Both because she had missed them…even Eleanor in some sick and twisted way, and she needed a distraction.

Raph had been with her for the last two hours and he had brought her ring. It turned into a bone of contention between them, segued into an argument and resulted in him sulking and watching baseball while she dozed and tried to think of something to talk about.

Mary didn't want to wear the ring for a variety of reasons, but she didn't want to wear it here at the hospital as she was afraid it would get lost, her fingers were messy some of the times and with the IV tubing and pulse ox cable it was just another annoyance on her hand. In retrospect, the word 'annoyance' was probably not the best descriptor she could've used.

Another reason, and one she didn't voice, was that the ring signified a level of commitment she wasn't sure either of them ascribed to after this event. It was heavy on her hand in more than just a literal sense. Mary felt as though Raph wanted her to wear the ring to show everyone she was his…just a niggling feeling but enough to make her wary and defensive.

She asked him if he had brought her anything else from home and he looked confused. Mary wondered why he didn't think to bring her the basics now that she was awake. Even though she was still tethered to the bed by IV lines, monitor wires and a most irritating catheter, she was able to complete a simple hygiene routine and would've liked to have her personal things. When she asked Raph about her cell phone, he said Marshall had her phone, gun and badge.

"Who are you going to call, Mary?" Raph asked.

"I didn't have anyone in mind, but thought it would be useful to have so I could follow the case." Marshall and she usually texted numerous times during the day to keep tabs on each other when they were running cases solo.

"I don't think you need the aggravation right now, do you?"

She stared at him for a moment before replying, "It's more aggravating to be in the dark. You know I like to have all the information in front of me about things."

Raph thought about her reply for a minute, then got an irritated look on his face, "Marshall's not trying to involve you in this, is he?"

"Jesus, Raph. The fact that I'm lying in this bed with a hole in my gut involves me in it. Marshall was kind enough to fill in a lot of gaps for me and answer some questions. It made me feel more connected to reality." She had to stop to catch her breath as the long answer winded her and hurt her throat.

"Fine. What did he tell you?"

"Just clarified some details. It appears to be complicated." Mary easily fell back into the role of Marshal and censored her answers.

Raph crossed his arms over his chest, "So…let me guess…you can't tell me?" the snide tone grated on her nerves.

Mary sighed, "Raph…" He continued to glare at her.

"No," she finally said and closed her eyes, "I can't tell you."

Thus the sulking began, and Mary was happy to hear Eleanor sing-song "Knock knock" at the glass doors.

After painfully pushed herself up a little straighter to greet her latest visitors, she gave them permission to enter. She was starting to ache pretty badly again and decided to get some more pain medicine after her boss and secretary left.

"Mary!" Stan gleefully called as he saw her and came over to hold her hand, "It's so good to see you awake and better. You gave us all quite a scare." He was beaming and Eleanor actually looked happy to see her also.

"I've just about gotten used to you, Mary. I'd hate to have to break in a new Inspector." the woman added to Stan's comments.

They both also greeted Raphael and everyone grabbed a chair to sit in as Eleanor spoke again.

"Mary, what is it that you think you would need while you're in here? Just let me know and I'll find a way to get it to you if it's allowed." The offer was generous and Mary was slightly surprised.

"Thank you. Socks and a robe would be great, and maybe some real food if they'll let me have it." Mary was looking at Eleanor with confusion on her face, "Are you going to be nice to me now since I was mostly dead? That's gonna throw me off my game, you know."

The older woman laughed, "When have you known me to play your game, Mary? I just want to make sure you're back to form when you walk into the office…otherwise it's just too easy."

Mary smiled in understanding and appreciated the banter.

They talked about office events and community happenings for a while to catch Mary up to speed, then Eleanor stood and invited Raph to join her for a coffee at the coffee bar downstairs. She knew Mary and Stan needed some time to talk about privileged information. Raphael accepted the invitation and the pair left shortly afterwards.

"How are you really doing, Mary?" Stan asked with concern.

"I have external plumbing, I hurt, I'm tired and I have the endurance of an infant. On the upside, I'm alive and I have jello."

He nodded, "I wish we could've had this all wrapped up and put away by the time you woke up, but it just doesn't all fit and we feel like there's a vital piece of the puzzle missing."

"Marshall said you don't think the shooter is good for the plan."

"He had no reason to shoot you, even knowing you were a cop. It's also the fact that everyone on that block and in that crew is tightlipped about the whole episode. Somebody's hiding something and this G-Dog has been singled out to take the fall." Stan was shaking his head, "Marshall has been spinning his wheels trying to pry information out of anyone who may know anything."

Mary remembered how tired her partner looked and how angry he had gotten when talking to her about the shooter.

She switched topics briefly, "How's he doing, Stan…really?"

Her boss looked at her for a moment, then sighed, "He saw you when you rolled in and was barely able to hold it together for a while after that. I had to keep him away from the front lines while we took down the gunman because I truly thought he would take matters into his own hands. It's been very rough on him."

"He's worn out." She was concerned, especially knowing he would be back tonight.

"He's been here every night. Eleanor was coming around six in the morning to relieve him. They had a routine."

Mary didn't know whether to be grateful or suspicious that Eleanor was here every morning. She had thawed towards the older woman over time and respected her, but trusting people did not come easily and took a long time. Mary had met very few women who would go toe to toe with her and survive. Other than her unforgivably obnoxious behavior while Brandi was being held by the FBI, Mary's attitude and antics never seemed to faze Eleanor. Maybe she should use the woman as an ally…they could conquer the world. Maybe that was the drugs talking. She smiled to herself as her thoughts wandered and was pulled back to the present by Stan's voice.

"…CIA and Homeland Security are sniffing around the Latin American connection now."

"What?" Mary had missed most of his statement.

Stan looked at her closely and tilted his head, "Why don't we save this for tomorrow? I get the feeling even if you hear what I say you won't remember it tomorrow."

"Dammit, Stan, don't coddle me. Just keep it short and sweet and I'll process it. I need something to think about other the next dose of medication." Mary was glaring at him.

Her boss relented, as he usually did. "There was nothing unusual about the shooting itself. Bad neighborhood, bad situation that escalated, standard firearm, standard perp. What's unusual are the events before and after, and as we look at it in more depth it's like crawling down the proverbial rabbit hole…curiouser and curiouser. The house you were put into was occupied just a week prior by tenants that had been there for ten years. No one knows where they went, or why. It was never put on the market at any point. Lala's crew started operating out of that particular storehouse across the street approximately three weeks prior to your move. For a year before that they had squatted in an established crack house two blocks away." He took a break to see if Mary was following.

"Are you saying this was a possible set up?"

"I'm saying we don't have the whole story." Stan continued as she mulled over the information, "We drug in half of Lala's crew and the man himself throughout the night and no one knew nothing. Funny thing is, three of those mooks don't exist…Lala included. At least, they don't exist until fifteen months ago, and they're not ours. Marshall got his virtual hands slapped when he tried to go snooping into their lives through their arrest records and court docs. They were being hidden by someone and now they've disappeared…along with Francesca. The CIA wants to know what we did with her and suddenly Homeland Security is breathing down our necks too."

"Wait…I thought Marshall said she left with the Agency jerks. The same guys who brought her." Mary was thinking tomorrow might have been better for this. Too much information and her brain was grasping at straws.

Stan gave her an exaggerated palms up shrug, "Smoke and mirrors…their specialty."

"Jesus, Stan, you'd think someone in the fucking DOJ would corral their clowns when you're looking at attempted murder of a U.S. Marshal. We all play for the same team."

He barked a laugh, "You're one to talk after our oh-so-pleasant interagency play date with the FBI."

Mary snorted, "That's different, they're Neanderthals. I thought CIA was a little higher on the evolutionary ladder."

"Not higher…just mutated sideways." Stan and Mary shared a laugh and Mary appreciated the ease at which Stan was able to pull her back into the loop. He must've been thinking along the same lines as he spoke.

"Now, Mary, you're not supposed to know any of what I've told you in the last twenty minutes. I was instructed to give you the simple version of 'you got shot by a punk named G-Dog' and no more. Unfortunately, those instructions came from someone I outrank. Shame."

"I always knew I liked you for a reason, Stan." Mary winked at her boss, then added, "So, when can I come back to work?"

He held his hands in front of him, "Oh no…you're not dragging me into this conversation today, Shannon. When you can finish a whole sentence without a break and eat regular food we **might** talk."

"I'm holding you to that."

As if Stan had somehow telepathically communicated with Eleanor that shop talk was done, Mary heard her footsteps outside the door and she and Raph returned.

Her fiancé came over to hold her hand and Stan stood as he and Eleanor said their goodbyes. Mary thanked them for coming and thanked Eleanor for helping Marshall. Eleanor was suspicious of all the 'thank yous' and told Mary she thought this whole experience had showed her the value of manners. Mary narrowed her eyes, stuck out her tongue and flipped the other woman off all at once and then listened to Eleanor's laughter as she and Stan left the unit.

Raph was taken aback and scolded, "Mary. She's a nice lady and even offered to bring you things you need."

"She's a bloodsucking alien thinly disguised as human. She only does nice things to throw off suspicion." Mary was secretly appreciating Eleanor right now, but wasn't going to tell Raph that, "She'll change her tune once I'm back in the office."

Raph realized his question as to whether Mary would go back to the job was just answered and sighed as he dropped her hand to sit in the chair.

"Mary, do you really think going back…" his sentence was cut short as Mary interrupted.

"Don't, Raph. It is not now, nor will it ever be, under discussion. I want to make sure I'm clear about that." She had turned to look at him steadily.

He met her gaze and a flash of annoyance shone in his eyes, "You're very clear. And I'd like to say that the same applies to me then. You don't get to dictate what **I** do."

She raised her eyebrows in slight appreciation of his use of her own words against her. Checkmate. Mary could accept that…could suffer through the car commercials without too much humiliation if it meant Raphael would back off from his attempts to talk her into quitting. It was one of the topics that sparked the most arguments and she certainly would like to argue less.

"Deal. We'll stay out of each other's careers."

They shook on it and smiled warily at each other. The first true moment of peace between them since Mary woke up.

Mary's gut was really burning now, and she pressed the call light to summon her nurse. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was nearly 8pm and Erin would be gone. She hoped the night nurse was acceptable.

*********

Kelly walked into the unit at ten to seven with the intent to stop by Mary's room quickly to see if the woman had been successfully extubated before getting report. The curtain was closed and she heard a male and female voice talking in a manner that implied the topic was not to be overheard. Deciding against an interruption, she dropped her things in the back and sought out Erin for report. She had called earlier in the evening to make sure she got Mary as one of her patients. Considering her assignment had paired Mary with a much sicker patient, Kelly figured Mary must be doing fairly well and smiled.

Sitting down next to Erin and pulling out her report sheet, Kelly just had to ask, "So, did Mary Shannon get extubated?"

"Sure did…and doing great! She's had visitors all day and seems to be tolerating everyone really well. She's going to be a force to be reckoned with once she gets her strength back."

"So I've been told. Just makes her all the more interesting. I thought she was goner…it's nice to be wrong about that sort of thing once in a while."

Erin leaned in and quietly asked, "This is the first time I've had her so I have to ask. Which one is her fiancé…the Hispanic guy or the tall, thin guy?"

Kelly was curious, "The Hispanic guy, Raph. The tall guy is Marshall and he's her partner…why?"

"Hmmm. Interesting." Erin leaned back in the chair with a smug smile.

"Oh, girl, you better spill and it better be good!" Sometimes this job just got depressing and a little bit of juicy gossip was balm for a bruised psyche.

"Well, Raph and her family came in to see her first and there were kisses on the cheek and hand holding, but Mary was fairly stoic and Raph seemed…wary. Even after the women left, Raph and Mary just sat and talked quietly. No PDA or tears, which you'd kinda expect after a near death experience like hers. She didn't seem excited to see him or anything."

Kelly wasn't impressed yet, "Well, maybe Mary's just not the type to get really excited or emotional about these things."

Erin continued with a gleam in her eye, "That's what I was thinking too, but I changed my mind. After PT messed with her, her partner arrived and her heart and respiratory rate jumped up before he even got in there. The look on her face when she saw him was like a little kid at Christmas. Her vitals stayed worked up while he was in there, and then her tracing got weird and I thought she was picking at the leads so I peeked in."

"Aaaaaannnnd?"

"He was sitting on the bed holding her and she was crying and he was crying and whispering to her. It was incredibly sweet and touching and they stayed like that for about fifteen minutes. I just think it's interesting that she was so affectionate and emotional with him, but so…not…with her fiancé."

Kelly leaned back in her chair smiling and nodding, "That *is* interesting. I think I'll have to slide a few strategic questions to her later. I wonder if Marshall will be back tonight."

"Well, I want the assignment back tomorrow. The other guy is circling the drain and the Mary/Marshall mystery will be interesting to follow."

Kelly nodded then furrowed her brow, "Are we still keeping that poor guy alive? God, it's like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. What are we doing now?"

The nurses put their heads together over the charts as the torch was passed.

*****Of *course* there's a conspiracy people...it's one of *my* stories!! I love that stuff :) Stay tuned for Marshall's return. I want to watch Kelly mess with them! Please review! *****


	8. An Open Book Instead

***** Mary gets some spunk back, but the dreams start to haunt. Some quality Marshall time! *****

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head  
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead  
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes  
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life

---Broken, Lifehouse

Mary watched as her night nurse entered the room. A woman about her age, short with short hair and…well, it was hard to tell the build of people in scrubs, but she looked relatively fit. Eyeing the woman, Mary distractedly wondered if the nurse would be able to wrestle her back to the bed if she decided to make a break for it. It was curious that these thoughts of escape were becoming more common the longer she spent time with Raph. Drug back to reality by her nurse's voice, Mary focused as the woman came over to greet her.

"Well look at you! All alive and awake. I have to say I'm impressed." Kelly held her hand out to Mary, "I'm Kelly and I'll be with you until 7am."

"You're the second person to be impressed today. Either you're all hard up for entertainment or I'm Wonder Woman."

"A little of both…depends on the week. And, yes, I am capable of keeping you in the bed if need be." Kelly smiled at Mary's look of surprise while she said hello to Raph. Mary probably didn't realize she assessed everyone with her eyes as a potential opponent, but Kelly recognized the look from standing across from many sparring partners over the years…and patients plotting escape.

Walking back over to the counter, Kelly pulled a vial out of her pocket and addressed her patient.

"I'm assuming you called for pain meds? Long day, visit from your boss and amorous fiancé. That'll wear you out." Raph beamed and Mary scowled.

Kelly continued, "Well, Raph, I'm going to kick you out for a little while so I can assess Mary and get her her pain meds. Give me about forty five minutes."

"Actually, Raph, why don't you head on home, okay? I'm going to crash after I get the pain medicine and I'm sure Brandi and Jinx could do with some guidance." Mary watched Raphael frown and added, "I really appreciate you taking care of them this whole time. It makes me feel a lot better."

He still hesitated, but Mary's smile looked genuine and Raph relented, "Okay…you're right. They're used to me being there by this time. You sleep well tonight, Mary. It was wonderful seeing you today." He kissed her cheek and slipped out the door.

Mary was slightly confused. Sure, she used a bit of a ploy to get him to go home, but his goodbye was lukewarm at best. The man truly seemed out of sorts and Mary hoped he was okay, not depressed or hurting. Her 'second thought' theory may be right on target and Mary wasn't sure how she felt about that. It was one thing to decide to leave someone…quite another to be the object of the leaving.

"He's probably just still overwhelmed by everything." Kelly offered to Mary, noting the slightly forlorn look on her face.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. It's been really hard for him. I don't think he counted on this."

Kelly had to silently chuckle as Mary used the exact same phrasing as Marshall the other night when describing Raph's mental state.

Mary's mood didn't improve through Kelly's assessment and she was cranky and snappy a half hour later even with pain meds on board.

"Are you sure you actually had medicine in that damn syringe?" Mary snapped, "My gut's still on fire."

"Yes. I gave you the full dose. Your gut still hurts because you just spent the last fifteen minutes rolling around." Kelly was using the computer to chart and thinking it was going to be a long night if her patient continued in this mood.

"Gee, I don't why I would be having a hard time getting comfortable." Mary sneered, "When can I have more?"

"Two hours."

"Jesus…are you trying to make me go through withdrawl? Can't you call someone to up the order or something?"

Kelly logged out and walked over the sit in the chair next to Mary. She put her forearms on her knees and looked at the woman in the bed.

"You're telling me you're in pain and you're uncomfortable and I believe you. I will do everything I can to try to help you, but I have only so much to work with. Your fentanyl drip is still running and I can give you another IV dose in two hours. I flushed your line with the pain meds in it and that gave you a little extra also. If I give you any additional IV drugs now I worry it'll affect your breathing. Until then, I can offer you 800mg of ibuprofen to take the edge off or I can offer you a sedative to help you sleep. That's what we have to work with."

Mary glared at Kelly, "What…no option 'c'?"

Kelly shrugged, "Sure. Option 'c' would stand for 'cut the crap'."

The women stared at each other for a minute and then Mary replied, "The ibuprofen might work."

"Excellent." Kelly stood up to go get the tablets then offered while Mary swallowed the pills, "If I get the aides to come in and help you clean up it may be a good distraction for a while. Those two hours will pass by more quickly. What do you think?"

Mary shrugged, still annoyed at being forced to back down, "Sure. But the braids have to go."

Kelly smiled, and as she left the room threw back the comment, "Anyway, you want to be cleaned up and looking nice when Marshall gets here, right?"

"What??...Hey!" Mary exclaimed at the retreating nurse.

*****

_HR: 82 NBP: 113/58 MAP: 76 RR: 12 SPO2: 100% Temp: 37.5_

_Fentanyl drip: 5 ml/hr Fluids KVO. Two IVs remain in her left arm. Oxygen at 2L._

By the time Marshall arrived around eleven, Mary had been bathed and received her second dose of pain medicine. Her eyelids slammed shut somewhere between thanking Kelly for the drugs and asking for a fresh pitcher of water as the first day of awakening had finally declared victory over the stubborn woman.

He checked in with the nurse to make sure it was okay that he had brought her some things from home, then quietly entered Mary's room to settle in for the night.

So different than the night before, and Marshall was amazed by the progress she had made in one day. It was if a switch had been thrown and she was suddenly flooded by energy and life. Unfortunately, his own batteries were still running very low and he knew he'd have to take Mary's advice soon and start to sleep at home. But not quite yet.

Mary was sound asleep, tilted to the right with some pillows behind her and holding one over her abdomen in front. Her hair was loose again and fanned out a bit on the pillow behind her head, her right hand lying next to her face. Marshall thought it was the most peaceful and relaxed he had seen her in a very long time and carefully moved over to the right side of the bed to maneuver himself into the lounge chair. He didn't want to disturb her, but couldn't resist sneaking a quick kiss to her cheek while she slept. He was going to get caught one of these times, he knew, and would pay for it over eternity, but it was worth it. Mary didn't even stir.

She was still pale, but all the edema had finally left her face and hands and he could again admire the angle of her cheekbones and jaw. She wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but from the day he met her he was utterly captured by her features. There was strength in the set of her jaw and intensity of purpose in her eyes and he would study her face when she wasn't looking just to try to find that one thing that drew him to her. Nobility, he decided. Chin always held high, Mary commanded attention when entering a room. Able to charm a con man off his mark, she could also intimidate with a glance and terrorize by merely standing next to you. She wore her height proudly, even wearing heels most of the time, and moved with confidence and grace.

Marshall snorted a quiet laugh after thinking that last part. He remembered her slipping on some ice outside the Sunshine Building last winter and the way she skittered and slid while flailing her arms and cursing before falling flat on her ass. She cussed a blue streak at him as he could do nothing but hang onto the truck and laugh uproariously. He had a melting chunk of ice sitting on the seat of his desk chair the next morning.

In the last four years, there were very few significant events that occurred in his life that did not involve Mary and he wondered how that happened. When had they become so intertwined? There was never a point when he suddenly woke up and declared, "Today I shall love Mary Shannon."…no, it snuck up on him. The thought of wanting to go to work became wanting to go to work and see Mary…wanting to watch sports on the weekend became wanting to watch sports on the weekend with Mary…wanting to live life to the fullest became wanting to live a life with Mary to the fullest.

"_Well, that's a new twist._" Marshall surprised himself with that one.

Life would certainly be wonderfully tumultuous with her and he smiled. He figured he'd probably have to get her on board for that though. Reigning in the wild horses of daydreams, Marshall concentrated on caring for her right now. He was a planner, methodically gaining a goal with tenacity and perseverance. It was really the perfect approach for this with Mary as she was never one to make emotional decisions quickly. Snap judgments, crazy ideas and ill timed actions…yes, and that's what this engagement was.

He'd been watching Raphael the last few days and the man seemed distant and brooding. Mary had mentioned she thought he was having second thoughts and Marshall tended to agree. He hoped the man wasn't concocting some additional crazy plan to manipulate Mary, once was enough and Marshall vowed to halt any additional efforts. Smiling, Marshall started to formulate his own plan. He would never manipulate his best friend, but his best friend's fiancé was fair game. It was always interesting to see people's true characters when they were stressed and cornered.

Marshall pulled out their book, but did not read out loud tonight. His trivia vault spewed out facts and figures on the value of REM sleep, something you lacked when you were in a sedated state, and he didn't want to disturb his partner's effort at true slumber as she was finally off those meds. For some reason he wanted to read about jousting tonight and turned to one of his favorite chapters.

****

_Raph and Francesca stood in front of the window full of televisions smiling at the ever repeating commercial featuring the handsome, Hispanic man._

_They laughed and talked in Spanish and Mary stalked over to them to grab Raph's arm and spin him around to face her._

"_What the hell is going on, Raph? What's she doing here?"_

"_Mary! Where have you been? Francesca and I have been waiting for you." The woman next to him smiled and laced her arm through his._

"_You should have a drink with us Mary…lighten up a bit." Francesca purred as she laid her head against Raph's arm. Raph patted her hand as he continued to look at Mary with a smile on his face._

_Mary was furious at the blatant affection and grabbed Francesca, pulling her away from her fiancé._

"_Jesus, Raph, is every woman I know or am related to fair game for you?"_

"_You shouldn't have done that Mary." Francesca growled, and was suddenly holding a gun on the blonde woman._

_Mary stepped in front of Raph protectively as Francesca fired. The bullet went through her to amazingly bounce off the large window of televisions and fall to the sidewalk. Mary's eyes were wide as she looked down at her abdomen and her knees buckled as the blood began to soak her clothes. There was no pain._

_She watched Raphael pick up the slug and hold it out to her, "Mary, why won't you wear my ring?"_

_The piece of lead had become a diamond ring and Mary was so confused. The bleeding was worse and she begged for help._

"_Raph…help me. Why are just standing there?"_

_He didn't move, "But Mary, my ring. Why won't you wear my ring? Why won't you wear it, Mary?"_

_He kept repeating the same question over and over and Mary could feel herself falling onto the sidewalk while Francesca was laughing at the commercial again. _

"_No…stop! Help me!" she called again, the world disappearing in a white flash._

***

"No…stop! Help me!" Mary cried as she tried to sit up out of the dream. Her belly cramped and pain stabbed through her ribs and back at the same time.

"Ahh!" she exclaimed in pain as she grabbed the side rail with one arm and her abdomen with the other. Eyes still shut as sleep was reluctant to release it's grip, she was completely disoriented and attempted to throw of the covers, only to panic as her hand came into contact with the lead wires from the heart monitor. She was trapped and tied down and muttered, "no, no, no…" as she pulled off the wires.

Suddenly there were hands on hers. Much stronger, but gently keeping her from ripping off the remaining wires and pulling at her IV lines. A voice, too, familiar and soothing and she began to focus on the real world to leave the dream behind and opened her eyes.

"Mare…Mary…wake up. You're dreaming…look at me. C'mon Mare, you're hurting yourself…wake up." Marshall had been startled out of his own dreams by her yell and woke to see her flailing. Her mutters were interspersed with moans of pain as she struggled and he was quick to intercede. Her eyes were full of panic and fear, but she finally seemed to focus on him and her movements stilled as she blinked at him in confusion.

"I'm bleeding!" she whispered.

He looked her over quickly, but saw no sign of blood and realized she was still foggy with sensations from her dream. He saw Kelly slip quickly into the room, then she stood and watched as Marshall seemed to have it under control for the moment.

"You're not bleeding, Mare. You're in the hospital and you're not bleeding anymore."

Mary slipped one hand out of his and pulled the blankets aside to look at her gown, her breathing slowing as she saw the clean clothing and blankets. Marshall placed his now free hand behind her back to help support her so her muscles wouldn't have to work so hard as she continued to sit up in the bed.

She swallowed as her surroundings started to make sense, "He was just going to let me bleed."

"Who?" Marshall continued to hold her up as she now gripped his forearm with her hands.

"Raph." She was staring at the covers, then looked up to meet his gaze…bewilderment in hers.

"Hey…he's not here, and you're not bleeding. I'm here, and Kelly's here and you're okay. Are you with me?"

Mary began to nod slowly as she grimaced, but her voice was stronger and more assured now, "Yeah…yeah. I'm okay. I'm here."

Kelly walked over the bed with concern on her face as Marshall helped Mary lie back down. She was all askew, and Marshall and Kelly got her positioned back up onto the pillows and straightened her blankets. Kelly reattached her leads, and Mary was silent the whole time with one hand rubbing her face.

"Mary, do you need some pain meds?" Kelly asked, relieved the woman had calmed.

Mary nodded and Kelly left to get the meds from the dispenser. Mary now had both hands resting over her eyes and Marshall knew she was trying to regroup. The dream had disturbed her, but he knew to wait until she was ready to talk without prying, and sat in the chair beside her with his hand lightly resting on her knee.

"What am I doing, Marshall?"

"Literally or metaphorically? I'll need a little more information to answer that. Unless it was rhetorical."

That got a small smile and she brought her hands down to rest on her chest as she rolled her eyes.

"Must you categorize everything?" she huffed, then continued, "Why am I doubting myself so much? I'm not usually one to second guess my own decisions."

Marshall thought he knew what she was talking about, "I think you've been doubting this one for a while, and maybe this whole thing is putting it into perspective."

"Right." Her eyes swung over to meet his, "What was it you said? Something about painting myself into a corner?"

Shrugging, he replied, "What do I know? I was drunk and being virtually annihilated by small children." He scooted a little closer to the head of the bed and rested his forearms on the rail, "And anyway, you said I was wrong and it was all about trust."

"You remembered what I said? You were tanked."

Tapping his temple with one finger, he winked, "Mind like a steel trap, even when soused."

Mary shook her head at him as Kelly returned with the promised pain relief. Quickly assessing her and making sure all was well, the nurse asked them if they needed anything else and let them get back to their conversation.

"I love him." The statement had a trace of question mark on the end. Almost as if she was hoping saying it would make it true.

"I know…but?" just a nudge.

"It should be easy, you know, if you're supposed to be with someone. That's what I always thought." Mary was fiddling with the call light as she talked through her dilemma, "It's not easy with Raph. Everything is hard...forced almost."

Marshall watched her face pinch as she thought about her interactions with Raph since she'd woken, "He doesn't know you."

"I don't think I want him to. He wouldn't like the real me." Her voice was softer and less focused after the dose of medication.

Marshall sat very still as he was getting a glimpse into parts of Mary he normally wouldn't see. It hurt him to know she didn't think the real her was likeable, that her true self was somehow undesirable. The drugs making her defenses slide, revealing thoughts she usually kept hidden. After a few minutes of silence, he prompted her.

"Because of…not despite."

She rolled her head slightly to squint at him, "Now **you're** being meta-rhetorical-ish. What?"

"You love someone **because** of who they are, not **despite** who they are. If he wouldn't like you for who you are, then maybe those second thoughts aren't such a bad thing."

Mary stared at him for a long moment, then smiled slightly as her blinks grew longer. Uncharacteristically, she reached over to place her hand on his forearm.

"You're very smart, Marshall…geeky, but very smart."

Her eyes drifted shut and Marshall caught her hand as it slid off his arm. He laced his fingers through hers and watched her fall back to sleep, hoping no more dreams disturbed her. Eventually, he laid his head on his arms and dozed himself.

The scene put a smile on Kelly's face and she nodded in satisfaction.

***** Doubts and second thoughts...oh, yes please!! Can't wait for Marshall to put his plan into motion :) LOVING the reviews...you all keep me going! *****


	9. Get Yourself Free

***** HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!!! *****

***** Raph can be so immature! Questions, answers and jousting...away we go! *****

* * *

Slip out the back, Jack  
Make a new plan, Stan  
You don't need to be coy, Roy  
Just listen to me  
Hop on the bus, Gus  
You don't need to discuss much  
Just drop off the key, Lee  
And get yourself free

---50 Ways to Leave Your Lover, Paul Simon

* * *

Mary awoke to an empty room and felt a flutter of disappointment. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she was surprised to feel fairly pain free and decidedly less achy this morning. The clock read 6:30 am and she could hear the unit waking up as doctors began to come in for rounds and other visitors started arriving.

Repositioning herself carefully, Mary found the note that Marshall left for her taped to the side rail and a little smile came to her face.

_Cowgirl,_

_Got an alert and had to run. One of mine, not yours, so don't get excited._

_Your toothbrush and other things are in your travel bag with some clean clothes I grabbed. Your phone is in there too. No, I didn't bring your gun…quit pouting._

_I'll be back later. Text me. Please don't maim the staff…and no more bad dreams._

_M._

That explained his absence and Mary worried whether he'd have enough energy to get through the day. She was going to cut him off tonight. Make him go home and sleep in his own bed, and hopefully she wouldn't have to deal with any nightmares while he was gone.

Mary realized she was angry at Raph for something he did in a dream and wondered if maybe it was time to come off the drugs. Thinking about the conversation overnight, she knew Marshall was right. Raph didn't know her…the real her. Always tempering her moods around him and trying to feign interest in topics and activities he thought were exciting, Mary felt worn out on days they spent a lot of time together. That, and not being able to talk about stressors at her job made her keep a fairly sturdy wall between them. She couldn't let Raph into a part of her life that was a vital part of who she was.

Maybe that was the reason her relationships usually failed, other than the fact she had never cared if they succeeded. So much of her personality, hopes, dreams and zest for life were wrapped up in her job that the Mary who existed outside of that world didn't have much substance. It was hard to find another person who understood that…experienced that, and knew you couldn't separate her into convenient pieces in order to pick and choose the ones you liked. You got the whole package, and the whole package was way too heavy for most people to handle.

It was time to be herself and see if Raph could handle the whole package. See if he could accept her for who she really was and not wish she was someone else or try to change her. Mary had to look at Raph more closely too. She couldn't force him to change either, or expect him to fit into a convenient mold for her comfort. Maybe he would surprise her. Maybe it would get easier. Maybe he'd run off to Tahiti with one of his car commercial whores and leave her high and dry. Her nose wrinkled at the thought, and her ruminations were interrupted by a knock and the nurse entering the room.

"Morning, Mary. Were you able to finally get some good sleep?" Kelly asked as she entered.

"I think so. I'm not hurting as bad today." Mary used the bed control to raise her head somewhat, "Aren't you supposed to go home soon?"

"You'll get rid of me soon enough," Kelly chuckled, "but I wanted to let you know Dr. Stroop called a few minutes ago and he's going to take you to the OR later today to close your abdominal wound. We'll let you eat breakfast, but then no more food until surgery. He suspects it'll be sometime between two and four."

Mary didn't want to go to surgery…didn't want to be put back under. Frowning, she asked, "How long will it take?"

Kelly came over to the bed with some papers while replying, "I don't really know, but it's not invasive or extensive so I would guess you'd be back up here within an hour. You won't go to PACU, just come straight back here and we'll recover you."

Putting the papers on a clipboard, she gave it to Mary with instructions, "I need you to sign consent for the surgery and consent for blood products. We gave you a bunch already, obviously, but I officially need your signature to say that was okay."

Mary asked a few more questions about the surgery, then signed the papers for her nurse. Still not happy about going back to the OR.

Kelly said her goodbyes to Mary and told her she'd be back again tonight. The two women chatted for a few more minutes and Mary asked for her overnight bag and some water and washcloths. Her nurse placed it all on the table next to her so she'd be able to reach anything she needed. After she was gone, Mary dug her cell out of the bag to text her partner.

"_Back to surgery today around 2-4"_ She got a fairly quick response.

"_Why?"_

"_Close the hole in my gut"_

"_Gross. Always knew you weren't completely put together!"_

"_Ass"_

"_You know you like it :) __Be back before lunch."_

"_I'll save you some jello."_

Mary cleaned up and brushed her teeth. She really wanted to be able to take a shower, but knew that was further down the recovery road. Breakfast was delivered and the aide helped her sit up so she could eat, and Mary devoured everything they gave her…except the jello. As a breakfast, it was disappointing, but just eating made her feel so much more alive, and 'back to normal' seemed attainable. The activities still wore her out, though, and she laid back down with intent to watch the news.

Erin woke her at 9:00 as she came in for Mary's assessment. Mary was glad she was back, as all this meeting new people was not her cup of tea. The nurse looked very pleased with her progress, and she and Mary talked about the plans for the day. Besides the surgery, Erin wanted Mary to get up to a chair for a while to build endurance, keep her from getting blood clots and increase her lung capacity. Mary gave her a skeptical look, remembering her inability to sit up yesterday, but Erin told her she'd be surprised how much better she'd feel today. As they wrapped up their conversation, Raph peeked in and Mary motioned him to enter as Erin left.

"How are you today, Mary? You really look a lot better!" He came over to kiss her cheek again and she pulled him in for something with a little more zest. Raph was stiff and pulled away after just a brief kiss, looking concerned.

"What?" Mary demanded, "You can't kiss the invalid?"

"I just don't want to hurt you. You still have a lot of wires and lines." his eyes traveled over her and her monitors.

"My lips don't have any wires or lines, Raph. I'm not a fragile flower, you know."

"You almost died, Mary! There were machines keeping you alive for days," he ran his fingers through his hair, "I can still see it…see you lying there looking dead."

Mary took one of his hands as it fell back to his side, "I'm not dead, Raph. You need to let it go."

He pulled his hand away and put them in his pockets as he slowly paced, "I just need some time to get used to you awake and talking. I don't bounce back as quickly as you do, I guess."

"Would you rather I just lay here with my eyes shut and be quiet?" she sarcastically drawled, "Would that help you transition better?"

Raph sighed, "No…I just…just be patient with me, okay?" he gave her a pleading look.

Remembering her internal dialogue this morning, Mary didn't try to force the issue, "Okay."

Raph came over to sit in the lounge chair and saw her duffel bag. He wondered when Jinx or Brandi had come back to the hospital.

"Who brought your things?"

"Marshall brought them last night. Some toiletries and clean clothes…if they ever let me out of this nightgown and let me pee on my own." She saw Raph pull a few things out of the bag.

"What are you doing? Leave it all in there so I can reach it."

"These are your pajamas and stuff from the house."

"Yeah…and my cell phone." Mary wasn't sure where this was going.

"How did he get these things?"

She looked at him like he grew another head. Surely, Raph must know Marshall had keys her house. She had keys to Marshall's house.

"He used his key and put together a bag for me." Mary said it slowly, "Is that a problem?"

"He didn't ask me if he could go in our house. I don't like the idea of another man going through your things." Raph looked severely put out.

Mary just stared and blinked at him. The phrase 'our house' partly sidelined her thoughts, then the possessive ending statement delivered a game ending injury. She wasn't sure how to respond as her first instinct was to smack him but she couldn't reach him.

"He doesn't need permission to go into **my** house, and he's not just 'another man'…he's my partner. I would do the same for him." Almost restraining herself, then letting the drugs have their way, "And I'm sure glad he did since you didn't think to bring me anything I could use."

He glared back at her then saw Marshall's note and picked it up. Mary tried to lean sideways to grab it and sucked in a breath as her eyes closed. Sideways movement was not a good thing. She took a few deep breaths to wait for the throbbing to settle. Raph either hadn't noticed or hadn't cared as he read the note.

"Why does he call you Cowgirl?"

"It's a fucking nickname, Raph. People give them to other people they work with. I'm sure you have plenty from your ball player friends." She looked at him with narrowed eyes, "Since when do you think you can go through my things and read my personal notes?"

"Since I'm trying to be responsible for you and protect you."

She was fuming, but tried to check her temper as his intention made sense, "Raph…I assure you this is not the way to go about it. You cannot invade my privacy, neither in my personal world nor my work world…especially my work for reasons you are well aware of. And for the record, I don't need any protection from Marshall."

"He's not letting you rest…you're having bad dreams." Raph flicked the note he was holding to emphasize his point, "You need to take a break from him and from work."

"Don't tell me what I need, Raph!" Mary gave up on diplomacy and let her temper flare, "I'm not having bad dreams because of work or Marshall, you idiot. I'm having bad dreams because I got fucking shot!"

"Because of your job."

"We weren't going to talk about that, remember? Staying out of each other's careers…ring a bell, Chico?"

"Why are you being like this again? I'm just trying to help you and all you ever do is push me away and fight me."

"You're not helping me by trying to keep me away from my job or my friends or the things that I love."

Raph slumped into the chair and rested his head back with a sigh, "Dios, Mary, could you just focus on us for a while? When does it get to be about us?"

Mary laid back against her pillows and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, then turned slightly to face Raph.

"You don't know me, Raph. You've got this idealized vision of engagement and marriage that is not going to happen with me. I'm tough and loud, bossy and driven and I'm not going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs while I recover. I have to get back out there. I'm also not going to fawn over wedding dresses, drool over cakes and write vows. Who did you think I was when you asked me to marry you?" To her distress, she felt tears come to her eyes and rolled back to stare upwards as she tried to stop their release.

Raph was ready to say something when her phone beeped with a text message.

"Can you hand that to me, please?" Mary asked.

"Really, Mary…you're going to read that message while we're in the middle of this discussion?"

"Yes I am."

Raph took the phone off the table and looked at the screen. The text was from Marshall and he glared at the screen. Knowing Mary couldn't get to him, he opened the message as she said, "Hey!"

She could not believe he had just looked at the message on her phone. Her heart pounded and she struggled into a sitting position to try to reach him, ignoring the pain in her abdomen. She had no idea who the text was from, but if it contained confidential information she was going to rip him limb from limb, gaping wound or not, "Raphael, you cannot look in my phone, dammit!"

He stepped further away from the bed as he sneered, "Marshall wants to know if you want anything from the cafeteria. I guess we both know who feeds and clothes you, don't we?"

"Don't do this, Raph. He's just trying to help. Jesus, you could've brought me my clothes, you could've brought me food. Nothing was stopping you, but now you get all pissy because Marshall thought of it first?"

"What do you need me for if you have him?"

"Oh, give me a fucking break, Raph. I can't believe you're going to play 'poor me' and think I'll feel sorry for you and push Marshall away. That will only backfire on you."

The man took her phone and put it in his pocket and Mary clenched her jaw in frustration. She knew he would never try that if she was able to get to him and she was furious that she was being taken advantage of by her own fiancé.

"Give me my phone." Meeting his eyes with a glare any rational person would run from.

Raph was picking up his jacket and keys and Mary knew he was going to leave and take her phone. There was a reason Marshall kept it all this time. Anyone could call her…a witness, a fellow Marshal…and that phone had all their information on it.

"God dammit, Raph," Mary threw her legs over the side of the bed, yanked off her leads and pulled herself into a sitting position. Dizzy and sweaty from the effort, but determined to get her phone, she asked for it again with a threat.

"It would be a serious mistake to take that phone. Stop acting like a five year old and give it to me."

"I'll think about it…when you start taking us seriously."

Raph turned to leave the room and literally ran into Marshall, who was just coming in.

Marshall reached out to steady the unsuspecting man and immediately felt the tension in the room. His eyes flew over to Mary and his concern ratcheted up an order of magnitude. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and hanging onto the bed rail. Pale and sweaty, he could see her arms shaking with effort and her face was angry as she glared at Raph.

Remaining in the doorway, Marshall asked, "What's going on?"

"He has my phone."

Turning to Raph, Marshall stared at him, "That would be property of the Department of Justice U.S. Marshal branch, and I would be happy to take it off your hands."

His voice was pitched low and dangerous and Raph only hesitated for a moment before sliding the phone out of his pocket and shoving it into Marshall's waiting hand. He shoulder checked Marshall on his way out and the tall man's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He decided this was an interesting development.

His attention back on his partner, Marshall frowned and moved to stand in front of her and she leaned against him gratefully. The room was starting to spin, but she wasn't able to lay back on her own. It hurt more to lay back down than it did to sit up. Her cheek resting against his abdomen, she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing as Marshall pressed the call light behind her. He smelled really nice, the warmth of his stomach was comforting and she allowed herself fade into him.

He felt her slump against him and supported her with his arms around her back as Erin came into the room.

The nurse's brow furrowed, "What happened? Where's Raph?"

"She just overdid it, I think. Raph left for the time being." he didn't elaborate.

Mary was mainly limp as they maneuvered her back into the bed and Erin hooked her back up to the monitor, assuring herself Mary had just succumbed to exhaustion as her vitals were fine and her oxygenation good. The woman moaned a bit with the repositioning and then sighed when Marshall tucked the blankets around her. Erin placed a cool cloth on her forehead and gently coaxed Mary back to wakefulness.

"Is he gone?" Mary asked Marshall as she focused her eyes on her partner.

"Yeah. And he won't come back if you don't want him to."

Erin hated to interrupt, but she needed to make sure her patient was okay.

"Mary, look at me for just a minute." The nurse checked her eyes while asking, "Does your chest or head hurt? Can you breath okay?" Mary's answers were satisfactory, and Erin was finally comfortable leaving her with her partner as she went back out to the main nurses' area.

Marshall pulled a chair up and sat down, "So, you want to tell me what the hell just happened, Mare?"

She sighed, "I told him he doesn't know me. He said I don't take the relationship seriously and I need to take a break from the job and from you. Then he tried to take the phone." looking at Marshall, she shrugged and made a suffering face, "Typical lover's spat."

Marshall was sitting very still with his hands folded in his lap and Mary knew he was angry. She could see his jaw clench occasionally and his eyes had faded to a slate grey as he studied her face.

Marshall was ready to wring Raph's neck in many creative ways. The fact that they had fought didn't bother him…Mary's favorite method of communication was arguing, but the man purposefully took advantage of her in a way that could've harmed her. It struck him as cowardly and petty and he was glad he showed up when he did. He may have to revise his plan slightly. He realized Mary was talking to him and focused on her.

"…feeling trapped and powerless."

"What? I'm sorry, Mare, I missed part of that."

"I said he's lashing out because he feels trapped and powerless. I pushed him today…trying to see what kind of reaction I'd get. Guess I got my answer."

"Just couldn't let things be until you could take him?" he raised one eyebrow questionably.

"That's what I have you for."

He flourished a seated bow in her direction and affected a terrible British accent, "I live to serve, Mi'lady. Would you wish me to joust with him for your favors?"

"Oh…you'd just love to see my favors, wouldn't you?" she was smiling now.

"You'd give 'em up pretty easily if you saw the size of my lance."

Mary burst out in giggles, covered her mouth in shock, then giggled again as she imagined Marshall decked out in armor and falling off a horse. He joined in her laughter as she sounded ridiculous giggling, and Erin came in to give Mary her meds to see the two partners reduced to tears by their own laughter.

Smiling and shaking her head, the nurse knew she'd get at least one latte out of Kelly for the stories she had about today.

***** Raph is a butt...as much as I try to redeem him he reverts to butthood every time. Mary's getting fiesty again...yay!! I would revel in New Year's reviews!!!*****


	10. Only Get One Shot

***** A transistion chapter. Mary's getting better and Raph has some interesting news. Marshall is getting worn out. *****

* * *

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment  
You own it, you better never let it go  
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow  
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo

---Lose Yourself, Eminem

* * *

Marshall stayed with Mary through lunchtime, working on his laptop as she had fallen back asleep around 11:30. Of course, Mary didn't get any lunch, but Erin offered to bring him up a bite from the cafeteria as she was headed down to grab her own lunch. Marshall didn't want to eat if Mary couldn't, so declined Erin's offer. He did succumb to the siren song of the yellow jello, however, and surreptitiously enjoyed it while his partner snored slightly.

The OR called for Mary around 1:30, and Erin came in to wake her and assess her quickly as she readied her patient for transport. Mary grumbled about the whole thing, and Marshall could tell she was somewhat apprehensive about the trip back downstairs. They had called her mom and sister earlier, so the two women would be waiting for her when she returned from surgery. Marshall had a meeting through most of the afternoon, so he asked Erin to call him when Mary was back and told his partner he'd visit later in the evening.

Portable monitor at the foot of the bed and IV pumps clamped onto bed poles, Erin and the transport aide unlocked the bed and gave Mary instructions in a tone that mimicked amusement park warnings.

"Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times as unexpected twists and turns may occur." Erin was smiling in an effort to ease Mary's tension, "They gave me a nursing license, but not a driver's license."

Mary gave her a tight smile and continued to brood. She was just tired of being poked and prodded, and didn't want to have to feel groggy and sore again. Also, the thought of missing more time aggravated her. Marshall tried to reassure her.

"It's a short surgery, Mare, and then you'll be zipped up and really ready to go. You'll be fine."

"Mmmhmm." she grunted, not looking at him.

He grinned evilly, "Do you want a kiss for luck?"

She shot him a sideways glare, "Do you want a fat lip?"

Marshall was just tickled pink that she was back to her normal, abrasive self, and almost risked a kiss on her cheek anyway. She must've sensed it because she shook her fist at him threateningly as they wheeled her out the door and through the unit. Chuckling, he gathered up his things, straightened her things out of anal retentive habit and left to head back to work.

Mary watched the sights of the hospital roll by with interest. Erin and the young transporter wove the bed through the hallways full of people and equipment with practiced ease, and Erin commandeered a staff elevator from some physical therapists to load Mary and her bed in.

"That's one of the perks of working in the ICU," Erin explained to Mary, "my patients take precedence over any others, or other people, on these elevators. Otherwise we could wait for hours."

"Do you like the ICU?" asked Mary as the elevator poked down to the ground floor.

"Love it! Wouldn't work anywhere else…except maybe the ER. I kinda thrive on that adrenaline rush and stress filled environment. I like having to think hard and fast and make quick decisions…and I love the autonomy. The docs know we know our stuff and trust us to call them if we need something."

Mary understood completely, "Yeah, I hear you. My job comes with a lot of split second decisions and adrenaline rushes too…I love it."

"I can tell. Just by the way you talk about it…and the great relationship you have with your partner." The doors opened, and Mary was maneuvered out of the elevator and pointed down another series of hallways. Erin continued her statement.

"My husband is a cop, so I understand that drive you guys have. We see a lot of that…nurses and cops ending up together…must be some common ground there."

Mary chuckled, "Maybe dealing with the slime of humanity is a bonding experience?"

Erin was laughing now, "I'll tell you what, I have seen not only the shallow end of the gene pool, but the dried up gooey mess around the edges. It's like being in an episode of Jerry Springer some days."

"Too bad they don't let you carry a weapon."

"They do." Erin leaned down conspiratorially, "It's called IV Haldol. Used wisely, it can put down a 350lb man in thirty seconds. No messy clean up either."

Mary was laughing too as they rolled into the OR and Erin handed her over to the anesthesiologist with report.

* * *

Marshall waited at the elevator, and when the doors opened he was faced with Brandi, Jinx and Raph. The women poured out to give him hugs that he tolerated, and he greeted them and let them know Mary had just gone downstairs. Raph stood to the side, and as the women headed to the waiting room, spoke as Marshall was forced to wait for the next ride.

"Marshall," he began as Mary's partner stared at him warily, "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was out of line and I realize that."

"So far out of line." said Marshall quietly, "She could've injured herself."

Raph looked very uncomfortable and ran his fingers through his hair in his trademark gesture of frustration, "This has been…really eye opening for me." his voice was hesitant as he tried to explain his motivations, "I'm struggling with a lot of things, and realizing there are…how do you say…blocks, between me and Mary."

He looked at Marshall, and the other man just raised an eyebrow in expectation. Marshall wasn't going to make it easy, and just waited for Raph to continue.

"You are one of those blocks, Marshall, and one I now know cannot be moved." Raph shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a bit like a kid in the principal's office, "My mother called me yesterday. My youngest sister has decided to move to Belize with her husband and my mama is going to be living alone. As the man of the family, I should move back home."

"Raphael, is this story going somewhere?" Marshall was trying to tie the 'blocks' to the 'mama' statement.

Raph sighed, "If Mary and I really had a chance at this marriage working, I would stay here and bring my mother over. But I think that is not going to be the case. You care for her better than I can, and you love her more than I do." He took a deep breath because uttering the truth still angered him, "I am leaving for home in two days and I won't be coming back."

Marshall was stunned. Both by Raph's statement about his care and love for Mary, and by the fact that the man was going to up and leave so quickly.

"I hope you plan on telling Mary this, because you owe her that. You're going to hurt her."

"Really, Marshall, don't you think Mary knows this isn't going to work? She basically told me that this morning."

Marshall considered the statement and understood Raph's position. He couldn't help but hurt for Mary, though. Even if she knew it was coming, she would still view it as a failure on her part and beat herself up over it. Curtly nodding agreement to Raph, Marshall left him with a piece of parting advice as his elevator opened.

"Good luck, Raph. And if you cause any problems in there before you leave, you'll find me on your mother's doorstep to visit you." The doors slid shut on his stony expression.

Raph had no doubt as to the truth of Marshall's threat, and was lost in thought again as he headed to the waiting room to join Mary's family.

* * *

Mary was back in her room within an hour and a half, and Jinx and Brandi came in to sit with her and wait for her to wake up. Surgery went well and Mary should be able to get up and move around as soon as she recovered her strength. Now that all her wounds were closed, she would be transferred to the regular medical floor and be able to shower and eat. Her ICU doctors wanted to keep her for one more night to assure themselves she had completely recovered from any ill effects of the pneumonia, so Erin let her family and Marshall know they would transfer her in the morning if there was a room available.

Jinx was flipping through some channels on Mary's TV while Brandi read a magazine.

"Why didn't Raphael come in here with us?" Jinx wondered out loud.

Brandi looked up and snapped her gum, "I don't know. He's been out of sorts since yesterday…even Peter noticed. Maybe he and Mary are fighting again."

Jinx sighed, "I wish Mary would treat him better. He's just so kind and she's always picking at him and snapping at him."

"She picks and snaps at everyone, Mom, not just Chico. She even picks on Marshall…shit, they're like an old, married couple if you ever listen to them."

"But can't she see how hard Raph tries to make her happy? Can't she just try to treat him more nicely?" Jinx put down the remote with a sigh as there was nothing she wanted to watch. She turned to talk directly to her youngest daughter, "It's just like how she treated us after the kidnapping…she pushes him away and always has to have the upper hand. She sees everything as a competition and Mary always has to win."

Brandi looked at her sister's sleeping face, and was struck by their resemblance when Mary's features were relaxed. She understood Mary's need to win.

Mary had once told her, long ago, that when you lose a fight you have to fight twice as hard the next time to regain your position and your dignity, and the longer you remained the top dog, the more dangerous your next opponent would be. They were playing king of the hill on snow mounds in the supermarket parking lot, and Mary was eyeing the next boy heading up the hill. The neighborhood kids were sending the teenage boys up against the twelve year old girl now. Three opponents later, Mary was at the bottom of the hill nursing a black eye and a split lip and grinned all the way home. She and Brandi were back on that hill the next day, and Mary stayed on top until it was dark and all the other kids got called home.

"She has to win, Mom. She has to keep everyone safe. Who else is going to keep away the bullies?" Brandi's voice was soft and her eyes focused far away.

Jinxed huffed and picked up the remote again, "You girls. I just never know when you're going to gang up on me. Fine, just take her side."

Brandi just smiled and smoothed Mary's hair down a bit on one side.

Mary woke a few hours later, and within an hour of being in the same room with Jinx and Brandi, her mood fell into the cellar. Stiltedly thanking her sister and mother for staying after surgery, she urged them to go home and get some rest. "_Please, God, make them go home!_" she begged internally.

Curiosity got the better of her soon after they left, and she picked at the corner of the dressing on her abdomen until she could peel it back and look underneath. Mary kept glancing at the curtain to make sure Erin wasn't going to catch her, and grunted in satisfaction as the incision was revealed.

Reddened slightly, it was fairly straight except for the little curve around her belly button. There were about a dozen staples running its length and she touched one to see if it would hurt. Slightly tender, but not as bad as she thought it would be. Experimentally, Mary stuck her stomach out slightly, then pulled it back in, making sure none of the staples were going to pop out with movement.

"How's it look?" asked Erin from the doorway, grinning.

Mary jumped and pressed the dressing back down guiltily, "Jesus, you need a bell or something."

"Nah…it's more fun to sneak up on people and watch them pop a stitch." She moved over to Mary's bed, "I was coming in here to look at it anyway."

Mary let her examine the incision, still feeling a little bit like a kid getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Looks great!" Erin stood up and put her hands on her hips, "So, want to get up and sit in the chair for a while? If you do well, and feel okay, I'll tell Kelly to get that catheter out for you tonight and you can use the real bathroom."

Mary needed no more motivation. Erin got another nurse to help, and they got Mary standing with relative ease. The hardest part was having zero abdominal strength to lever herself into a sitting or standing position. It was painful, but not prohibitively so, and once she balanced for a few minutes, rote muscle use kicked back in and she took the half dozen, small steps to the chair with moderate support. She swore with effort, but finally was sitting up with her legs on the foot rest and feeling fairly proud of herself. Mary smiled, and Erin smiled with her.

"And you doubted me this morning." said her nurse, "Do you want some dinner? I can only offer soup tonight, surgeon's orders, but it's better than ice chips."

"Bring it on!" Mary replied, emboldened by her chair-sitting achievement.

*******

Marshall returned to the ICU by nine p.m., tired from meetings and long days and still thinking about the earlier conversation with Raphael. Mary had texted him about sitting in the chair, so that was a positive note, but he knew he had to get some rest soon or become uncharacteristically cranky.

As he approached Mary's room, Kelly looked up at him from the table she was sitting at with expression of relief on her face.

"Marshall," she drawled, overly sweetly, "So glad you're here. Maybe you can do something with her?"

He grimaced, "Why…what's the problem?"

"Let's just say I'm planning on charting 'pain in the ass' as a valid neuro assessment."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, not really wanting to into his partner's room now. Kelly continued.

"I had to take away some of her pain medicine…not all of it, she still has the button to push, but she's a little grumpy about that. She wants to transfer to the floor now, instead of tomorrow morning, and she wants real food. I'm working on getting that order for her, but it's low on the doc's priority list. Oh…and we apparently have no DVDs that she cares for, and she wants her catheter out but won't let me take it out." Kelly shrugged and added sarcastically, "Otherwise she's the perfect patient."

Another patient howled and shouted and Kelly rolled her eyes as she got to her feet, "I gotta go take care of that. Please find out what I can do for her that will help, will you?"

Marshall nodded in sympathy and put on his game face as he entered Mary's room.

"It's about time, nitwit. I'm going crazy in here." was his greeting.

He narrowed his eyes at his partner, "You know, I can turn around and leave right now."

"But you won't." She stared at him as he stared back. Something in his stance and eyes made her think he was not in a good mood and she wondered if he really would leave. Recanting before she chased him away, Mary changed her tune.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm glad you're here. Rough evening."

"Rough day…rough week, on my end." Marshall added as he pulled up a chair.

Mary rarely heard Marshall complain, so his statement rang her warning bells and she looked at him closely. He had circles under his eyes and his 5 o'clock shadow made him appear a little more worn than he usually looked at this time of day. She was reminded of pictures of cowboys returning from a hard day of wrangling; dirty, tired and somehow sexy in their weariness. Marshall was out there wrangling her witnesses and her case, taking care of her in here, and Mary realized she owed him some serious gratitude. She hadn't had to ask for anything as he had it for her when she needed it, defended her when she was defenseless and made sure he was supportive and encouraging the whole time. He was being her Cowboy and it made her feel strange…cared for on a deeper level.

"Tell me about it." she offered quietly

He met her eyes with his own and she saw a hint of sadness there.

"What is it?" she leaned forward a bit as she watched him, "There's something wrong. What are you not telling me?"

Taking a deep breath, Marshall tried to reorganize thoughts in his head. He couldn't say anything about Raph so had to tuck that away.

"I had to opt Sandy Nelson out today and it turned into a witch hunt…with me as the witch. She signed all the papers and then turned around to say I mislead her and bribed her to leave the program."

"What the hell would she do that for?"

He rolled his eyes and gave her a suffering look, "Because she's a crazy ass bitch? Who knows. I knew she was a problem after the first week. I think she found a supplier and is back on the crank."

Mary wished she could've been there for him. Been able to back up any evidence he had that discredited his witness.

"What happened?"

He actually smiled then, "She saw it wasn't going her way and jumped onto the table to dive onto the lawyer and try to rip his eyes out."

"No way! Oh God, I can't believe I missed that!" Mary would've paid good money to see that.

"Her claims were pretty much shot to hell after that." He chuckled, then sobered again, "But I still had to slog through all the paperwork and talk to all the people."

Mary cajoled him, "Aw, c'mon, you love paperwork."

Her partner gave a little half smile, but was still brooding so she decided to distract him with a new tactic, "Want to see something cool?"

Instantly wary, Marshall answered slowly, "Oooookay…does it involve bodily fluids in any way?"

"No…but it does involve a good expanse of my skin." wiggling her eyebrows at him suggestively.

Marshall blinked at her a minute while he tried to wrestle hormones and curiosity. Most thoughts that involved expanses of Mary's skin were better to have when he was in private, and he shifted uncomfortably before answering.

"Is the image going to be burned into my retinas to forever haunt me?" he asked.

"You are such an idiot." She huffed, then untucked her gown carefully from the blankets in order to keep herself decent, and pulled down the corner of the dressing to show him her staples.

Marshall couldn't not look, and was fascinated by the handiwork, "Eleanor would be proud of that stapling job."

"Touch it…it feels weird." Mary remained fascinated with her injury.

Marshall wasn't sure it this was a trick and he was going to lose a limb, but figured she was probably slower than usual and he'd be able to escape in time. He reached out a finger and gently felt one or two of the staples, agreeing with her that it felt weird.

"Um…do you two need a moment?" came the voice from the door, and both Marshals jumped in surprise, looking up to see Kelly standing there with a smile on her face.

Marshall sat back quickly and Mary flipped her gown down.

"Dammit, do they give all you people lessons on stealth or something?" Mary snapped. Yet again embarrassed by her nurse.

Marshall blushed, then noticed something, "What happened to you?" he asked Kelly.

The nurse touched her newly split lip gingerly as she replied, "Tweaker who ran from the cops and thought he could fly. Now he's detoxing…always a good time. I zigged when I should've zagged." She turned to get Mary's meds from the drawer as she continued, "At least I didn't get bit."

"Bit?" asked Mary, rather appalled by the nurse's story.

"Yeah. He bit Sarah. Poor thing, now she's worried she's going to get a disease and she's five months pregnant." Heading over to Mary's bed with her pills and some water, Kelly shrugged, "He bought himself four point leathers and a security detail with this stunt, so my job's a lot easier now."

"You still have to take of him?" Mary asked.

"Gotta take care of the crazy ass ones just as well as the not crazy ones."

Mary and Marshall looked at each other in silent communication, suddenly having more empathy with the nurses. They knew about having to take care of crazy ass ones. They chatted with Kelly for a few more minutes and then she left them alone again.

"You're going home tonight, Cowboy." Mary suddenly told Marshall as she studied him again.

He looked at her a minute, then sighed, "Yeah. I knew you were going to banish me and I knew I needed some real sleep."

She smiled at him and offered reassurance, "I'll be fine. Plan on sleeping all night with no interruptions."

"You have your phone. You call me if you need me and I'll come over…okay?" He didn't want to spend the night without her. Was going to miss her.

"I promise I'll call if I need you."

Before she could protest or anticipate his movement, Marshall leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before standing to gather his things and go to the door. Looking back at her, she sat there with a stunned look on her face and her hand on her cheek.

"'Night, Cowgirl…sweet dreams." and he was out the door.

***** He got her! Hope it wasn't too boring...and I tried to redeem Raph a bit. Hey...Raph's leaving...who's excited!!?? Please review as generously as always :) *****


	11. Gotta Move On

***** You are all so wonderful! Thank you for reading and giving my my highest hit day ever yesterday :) yay! *****

***** A bit of a shorter chapter...just needed to end where it did. Some progression and recovery. She's doing so much better. Introspection does not always lead in the direction you would think. Don't hurt me :) *****

* * *

And all the things that break you,  
Are all the things that make you strong,  
You can't change the past,  
Cause it's gone,  
And you just gotta move on,  
Because it's all,  
Lessons learned.

--- Lessons Learned, Carrie Underwood

* * *

_HR: 72 NBP: 108/60 RR: 12 SPO2: 100%_

_Fentanyl PCA, Fluids KVO, one IV in her left arm._

Kelly woke Mary around 5:15am to tell her they had a room ready and she wanted to get Mary packed up to go. The night before had gone much more smoothly after Marshall's visit, and Kelly was able to get Mary's catheter out and help her manage her pain. Her patient was groggy this morning and complained about the move.

"What the hell? They can't wait to move me until it's actually light outside?"

"You know, there's actually sick people in this hospital that I need to take care of. If you're walking, talking and eating you're getting the boot from the ICU." Kelly was smiling at her.

"Where's your loyalty, woman?" Mary shot back, then asked, "What room am I going to? I have to text my family and Marshall."

"And Raph." Kelly added, watching Mary as her patient sighed.

"Oh yeah, and Raph."

Kelly stood with her back against the counter, crossed her arms and looked at Mary until the blonde woman felt her stare and looked up.

"What?"

"Can I offer you some advice?" her nurse narrowed her eyes at her.

"I'd say 'no' except I think you're going to offer it anyway." Mary replied with a resigned expression.

"When they wheel you out of this unit, I want you look at the guy in room 2 by the main doors. You looked worse when you got here." She let that sit for a moment before continuing, "They brought you up from the OR that day to die, you know? They thought you were going to die on the table and that really screws up their statistics, so they bring you up here to die."

Mary didn't know that. She wondered why Kelly was telling her this, but decided to pay attention.

"We told your family it was touch and go, but I honestly expected to be putting your body in a bag by morning. I won't say I've ever seen a miracle, but I do believe that some people are meant to stay here for a reason. You got something that very few people ever get…a second chance." Kelly could tell Mary was thinking about it, and gave her a minute before offering her advice.

"Don't be a fool, Mary."

Mary squinted at her, "Excuse me?"

Kelly smiled slightly at her bewildered patient, "Pay attention to what's right in front of you. We restarted your heart, so maybe you should listen to it." Walking to the curtain, Kelly said, "I'll be back in about twenty minutes to get you moving."

Mary sat staring at the place Kelly had been. She knew her condition was dire after getting shot, but she hadn't known she had been declared past hope…didn't know she had beat quite those steep of odds. She imagined how her family would've taken the news of her death and shuddered. Brandi and Jinx would've been inconsolable. They would have been lost, wandering aimlessly through life without being able to anchor to her. Maybe Brandi would have Peter by her side, but Jinx…Mary was sure she'd drink again and slowly self destruct.

Swallowing as she thought of Raph and Marshall, Mary felt her own eyes prick with tears. Raph would brood and cry, maybe remain close to Brandi and Jinx for a little while, but eventually move on. But Marshall. Marshall would fall apart, she knew, because she would do the same if it were him.

Mary did not want to think about the depth of grief she would feel if Marshall were to die. It made her chest hurt. She honestly didn't know if she would ever recover, ever be able to shake the sorrow. There would certainly be no joy, no comfort in her life for a very long time after…if ever. Her heart wept with the thought of losing him, and Mary listened.

Goodbyes were called as her bed was wheeled out of the unit. Kelly told her to wander over any night she couldn't sleep down on the floor and they'd have some coffee together. A few people came over to personally wish her well, and Mary had to smile at all the genuine good will. The transporter stopped at the front desk to pick up her chart, and Mary remembered to look at the patient in room 2.

She could only stare. The young man had so many tubes and wires running into and out of him she could barely discern his body. His features were nearly unrecognizable and his skin color was gray. Her gaze fell on the woman sitting next to the bed and tears sprang to her eyes for the second time this morning. The woman's head was resting on her arm that lay on the side rail near the man's torso, her other arm slowly stroking his head repetitiously. Her posture one of fatigue and defeat. Mary just knew Marshall had performed the same vigil for her many nights in a row and her tears fell as she rolled out of the unit.

**************

Raph showed up at her new room about the same time as breakfast and Mary was surprised to see him.

"Hi, Raph. Are Mom and Brandi with you?" Mary had convinced her new nurse, Jamie, to help her with a shower, and now she sat in the bed clean and with her own pajamas on. She felt great. Only attached to anything by one IV line, and she could take that with her if she wanted to move around. Not quite up for long walks on the beach, but Mary found she could walk unaided to the bathroom and back and that was fine for now. Freedom had never tasted so sweet.

Raph shook his head no, put his hands in his pockets and walked over to sit in the chair near the window. He had a tight, small smile on his face…almost like he had to think about acting pleasant.

Mary knew something was up right away and put down her toast to stare at him in concern, "Is everyone okay? Is there something wrong at home?"

"Everyone is fine and the house is fine." He looked her over with raised eyebrows, "You look really good! I can't believe how fast you're recovering…it's really great."

Mary smiled, "I can't believe I could barely move two days ago…even yesterday. It's amazing."

Raph shrugged with a grin, "You'll be back to kicking ass and taking names in no time, Mary."

His posture belied the good cheer of his words and Mary's smile faded as she watched his body language. Knees close together with hands clasped in his lap and leaning slightly towards her, Raph didn't meet her eyes and looked at her IV pump. He had something to say, but didn't want to say it.

She waited a moment more, then prompted him, "You're here to say something, Raph." Her stomach was feeling a bit queasy.

His eyes met hers and he slowly said, "I'm going home tomorrow."

Mary looked at him in confusion, "To the Dominican Republic? Why?"

"My youngest sister has moved out, so my mother is all alone."

"Oh. So…when will you be back?" Mary could not quite put her finger on what was wrong. A visit to his mother wouldn't seem to be a distressing issue, but Raph was really edgy and as he sighed and brought one hand up to rub his mouth, Mary suddenly realized what he was saying.

"You're not coming back, are you?" her words were slow and steady, but her pulse was racing. Raph closed his eyes and shook his head no and Mary could only stare.

She didn't know what to say…couldn't even decide how to feel. Part of her was crushed at yet another abandonment, while another part suddenly felt lighter and hopeful for an alternate future. Didn't she just yesterday convince herself that Raph was not right and the future marriage was a mistake waiting to happen? Told herself she had to let him be who he was? Why did she cling to things that weren't right, knowing they weren't right, then feel torn apart when they were taken away?

"I'm sorry, Mary. I think we both know this wasn't going to work. I have to let go of you and this and go be with my family. If we had a shot, I might stay and try, but we don't." His eyes pleaded with her to understand.

Mary nodded her head in agreement as she swallowed and tried not to cry. She was not going to cry over this man. Too many years of her life had already been spent crying for one man who walked away.

"You're right. It wasn't going to work and we would've been miserable. I wish you well, Raph, and I hope you're happy back with your mom."

He looked slightly confused with her dismissal, "That's it?"

Mary shrugged, her defensive cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders, "What more do you want? It's not like there needs to be a discussion about it."

"I love you, you know."

Mary shut down even more, "Goodbye, Raph." She sat back in the bed and stared at her breakfast. Raph stood and stepped towards the bed.

"Don't." The single word garnered no argument, and Raph stepped back then slowly turned at walked out the door.

Mary's breakfast became cold as she sat in her room and thought about her life. From the stirring feelings this morning, the cold dread she felt waiting for Marshall to return from surgery years ago, the emptiness that still echoed with her fathers absence to the numbness she felt right now. Too many feelings attached to too many people and she didn't want that anymore. Didn't want to have to think about what others felt for her and what she felt for them. Didn't want to hurt and hope, looking for comfort and company from those around her. She had always kept herself distant and detached, only moving in to care for someone in times of need. It allowed her to move on quickly and stay focused on goals without distraction, and she liked it that way.

Taking a deep breath, Mary decided she needed to step back for a while. To let others around her do their own thing and live their own lives without her stepping into the middle. She needed to concentrate on her recovery and getting back to work…no more. No attachments, emotionally or physically, to distract her or hurt her. Time to clean the emotional house.

She looked at her cold breakfast and pushed the call light, wondering if Jamie could get her more food. She planned to get out of this hospital in record time, and needed to eat if she was going to do it.

***** Oh, no, Mary! Slamming the walls down. Marshall has his work cut out for him now. Who wants to see him fight for her??!! Please review :) *****


	12. Something That I Missed

***** Uh oh, things get interesting again. Time to try to figure out what the h**l is going on! *****

* * *

I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed  
Don't you breathe  
Something happened, that I never understood  
You can't leave

---Somewhere A Clock is Ticking, Snow Patrol

* * *

Finally having finished breakfast, Mary unhooked her IV, visited the restroom and was drying her hands when she heard the door to her room open and bump against the bathroom door. Again, she wondered who designed the rooms such that the open door to the room itself blocked the bathroom door. As she reached for the knob she heard hushed voices and something made her freeze in mid action and listen.

"Where is she?" said a nasally, male voice.

"I don't know. This is the right room according to the message. Maybe she's in therapy or something." A deeper voice with a southern accent.

"Shit." Mr. Nasal again, "If she's that mobile she's going to be hard to take out."

Mary's breathing increased and she slowly drew her hand back from the door knob and tried to decide if there was anywhere to hide in the tiny bathroom. They'd pull aside the shower curtain, but there was a small space between the door hinges and the linen closet when the door was all the way open. Turning slightly, she moved over to stand there in case they came in. She thought about pushing the call light by the toilet then disregarded the action as she didn't know if the men would be dangerous to any staff entering the room

"Where's the bathroom? Maybe she's in there." Mr. South's idea.

There was movement at the door and Mary was on high alert, hoping to God she'd be able to mount some small smattering of defense in order to disable them and get away. Her hands were shaking. She hadn't felt this defenseless since being chained in Spanky's basement and just tried not to panic as the door to the bathroom opened quickly.

She made herself as small as possible and bit back a grunt as the clothes hook on the back of the door hit her on the forehead. Her body just fit in the space without offering any resistance to the door that would announce her presence to the man holding it open. Her system was not ready to handle the amount of adrenaline pumping through it and her thighs began to shake with the effort of standing so stiffly. If they didn't leave soon her legs would give out and they'd find her. Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades and beaded on her forehead.

"Not in here either…god dammit!" Mr. Nasal hissed.

"Relax, Matt. We'll come back tonight when she's asleep. Let's get out of here before someone notices us."

The sound of the men leaving and the creak of her room door were her salvation, and Mary grabbed the door handle as she lowered herself to the floor, tears of frustration in her eyes. She couldn't stand being this vulnerable, and her already fragile emotional state amplified the feeling of helplessness. Tears on her face now, Mary crawled over to push the call light and sat on the floor with her head in her hands to wait for assistance.

Jamie was there within a few minutes, and was immediately concerned that her patient was sitting on the bathroom floor in tears.

"Mary, did you fall?" squatting down to check her over, "Are you all right?"

Mary shook her head and looked up to see Jamie, "I didn't fall, just ran out of steam and had to sit down."

Jamie saw the small cut and welt on Mary's forehead and was suspicious, "Are you sure didn't fall? You have a cut on your head, and if you fell I want to make sure we check out your head." Falls were such a complicated issue in the hospital, and Jamie knew Mary would have to have a CT scan if she had fallen. Jamie would have to fill out a lot of paperwork.

"No. I didn't fall…honestly. I hit my forehead on the corner there when I leaned over to push the call light. I was already sitting down." It was only a partial lie, and her nurse seemed satisfied.

"Okay, I believe you. Let me get Dan to help us and we'll get you back to bed." Jamie disappeared, and was back in a few minutes with one of the larger aides.

The two staff members easily helped Mary to her feet and back to the bed where she gratefully laid back against the pillows. Jamie tutted about the detached IV, fussed over her cut for a bit and applied a bandaid. Mary just kept her eyes shut and murmured 'yes' or 'no' to her nurse's questions. Jamie wanted her to push her pain button, but Mary refused as she wanted all her wits about her. Finally convinced her patient wasn't going to try to get up alone again, and not wanting to fight her on the pain issue, Jamie left Mary with the call light in her hand.

As the door shut, Mary grabbed her phone and speed dialed Marshall.

"Marshall."

"Where are you?" Mary asked without preamble.

He heard the tremor in her voice and knew immediately something wasn't right, "What's wrong?"

Stan was sitting across the conference table from Marshall as they were going over Mary's case. The tone of Marshall's voice and his stillness caused Stan to also stop what he was doing and look up.

"I had visitors…not the kind who would bring you flowers. Two men. I didn't see their faces because I was hiding."

"Are you all right?" Marshall was grabbing his coat and motioning for Stan to do the same. His heart rate had shot up and he was already plotting the fastest route to the hospital.

"No, I'm not fucking all right, Marshall!" he could hear tears now, "I have no way of defending myself if they come back. Get me the fuck out of here!"

Mary was not one to panic, but frustration and fear were combined with pain and fatigue and she wavered on the edge. Marshall could hear it and sense it and he tried to talk her down.

"I'm on my way, Mare…just breathe, okay. If you're in the bed, look behind you on the wall and you'll see a blue, square button. Do you see it?"

He heard some rustling, then she whispered, "Yeah, I see it."

"If anyone comes into that room whom you don't know, or who seems threatening, you push that button. It's for codes and everyone will come running right away. Got it?"

"Okay…okay. I'm okay." Having an avenue of partial escape helped her focus and she realized how close to losing it she had been, "Sorry. Just feeling a little trapped here."

"It's completely understandable. No reason to apologize," he was glad she was thinking clearly now, "Sit tight. Stan and I will be there in about ten minutes."

"I'm timing you." she said as she hung up.

Marshall filled Stan in as they drove. The men took the stairs to Mary's floor and swiftly walked down the hall to her room, catching the eye of Mary's nurse and a few others. Jamie recognized Marshall from his description, but didn't know the other man, and watched them approach Mary's room, becoming alarmed when they drew their weapons before entering. They slipped into the room and she stood there contemplating her next action.

"Did they just pull their guns?" another nurse asked her as the both stared at the door to Mary's room.

"Yep." Jamie blew out a breath, "I gotta go check to make sure Mary's okay. Call security or something if I get shot, all right?"

The other nurse mumbled, "They don't pay us enough for this shit."

*****

Marshall knocked quietly as he opened the door to Mary's room and called her name. She called back saying it was clear, and the men entered the room quickly. Stan still checked the bathroom while Marshall moved to check on Mary. She looked pissed, and glowered at him from where she sat crosslegged on the bed.

"That was fourteen minutes, asshole."

"I hit a light or two." He shrugged with a small smile, knowing she was trying to save face and not be as outwardly terrified as he was sure she felt.

He and Stan had holstered their guns, and Marshall frowned as he spotted the bandaid over the bruise on her forehead. Stan started asking questions.

"When did they come?"

"About forty five minutes ago. I was in the bathroom when they came in the room and I heard their voices." Mary was happy to be able to just answer some questions to keep her mind busy.

"Did you recognize their voices, or hear any identifiers?" Stan was writing her answers down.

"I didn't know the voices. One was nasally and the other had a southern accent. Two men, and the nasally one was named Matt." She watched Marshall walk over to the bathroom and he called back.

"Where did you hide in here?"

"Behind the door. There's a small space when it's open." Turning back to Stan, she volunteered more info, "They were following instructions to 'take me out', and planned to come back later when I was asleep. I don't think they were going to ask for a date." Stan made a face and shook his head while writing.

There was a knock on the door and it opened a crack. Everyone froze.

"Mary? It's Jamie, is everything all right?" Her nurse called through the small opening.

Mary smiled, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Marshall stepped out of the bathroom to open the door and let Jamie in, "Come on in for a minute, okay? I want to ask you a few questions."

Jamie still stood in the hall and eyed him and Stan warily, "Are you going to shoot me?"

He smiled and she relaxed, "Wasn't planning on it. Too much paperwork."

She went in and listened to their questions and told them she hadn't seen anyone entering or leaving the room as she was in another patient's room at that time. Without revealing details, Stan informed her that they needed to move Mary to another room, preferably on another floor, immediately and quietly. Jamie nodded and said she could get her manager to help them do that if Stan came to talk to him with her.

After they left, Marshall went to sit next to Mary on the bed. She uncurled her legs and leaned back on the pillows, finally being able to relax after an hour, and hit the button on her pain pump.

He heard the little beep and asked, "How long has it been since you hit that?"

"About two and a half hours." Her voice was rough now.

Marshall knew that was too long and grimaced in sympathy. He reached over to gently brush his fingers over the bandage on her head, and she pulled away as she answered his unspoken question, "The clothes hook on the back of the bathroom door hit me when they swung it open."

Slowly pulling his hand back, Marshall said, "Mare, there's no space behind that door."

"There was forty five minutes ago." Opening her eyes to peek at him, "I was a little desperate."

Marshall studied her defensive posture in the bed, arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed. He wondered if she was still disturbed by the invasion, or if there was something else going on. His heart was still pounding a little harder than necessary as he thought about what would've happened had the men found her in the room. She wouldn't have had a chance. He decided he was bringing her gun to her tomorrow, to hell with regulations, and she could keep it in her duffel next to the bed.

"Why would I possibly be a threat to anyone or anything right now, Marshall? What the hell is going on?"

Mary allowed her eyes to drift shut with the pleasant sensation of the pain medicine finally moving through her veins. Raph temporarily forgotten as her partner's scent drifted around her, she felt calmer and much less vulnerable. She could hear him breathing and concentrated on his voice when he spoke.

"About an hour before you called, Stan and I found out there were more than one set of fingerprints on the gun G-Dog shot you with. It sent us back to all the files and we've been trying to figure out how this thing breaks down."

Mary opened her eyes to study him, "You know who those other prints belong to." It was a statement, not a question, and he nodded slowly. She raised her eyebrows in a silent, "_And?_"

"They're Francesca's."

*********

Marshall, Stan and Mary sat in her room going over plausible and non-plausible scenarios for how Francesca's prints got onto the gun used to shoot Mary. Mary was thinking hard, trying to recall snippets of memory from that night, and surprising herself with the information she was pulling up. Without all the drugs in her system any longer, her long term recall was coming back, but she had absolutely no memories of the shooting itself.

Marshall was watching Mary with a tightness in his gut. She was withdrawn and flat, avoiding eye contact…especially with him. This was so far from her normal demeanor after an adrenaline rush, and he couldn't imagine her physical state was completely the reason. Something else had happened and his brain was flipping through the rolodex of possibilities, suddenly getting a paper cut on the one card that fit. Raph.

"_Son of a bitch._" He hissed silently. Raph must've been here today and told Mary he was leaving. Even though he knew the man was going to tell her (and Marshall would never, ever, let Mary know he knew ahead of time), he wanted to chase him down and stomp his sorry ass into next week for what the news was doing to his partner.

"Marshall?" Stan's voice snapped him out of his homicidal reverie and he looked at his boss questioningly, "Did you think of something? You checked out for a minute there."

"No. Just imagining some justice, that's all."

"You know," Mary began as she stared off thoughtfully, "Francesca kept trying to get me to drink with her, telling me to loosen up and take it easy. It was almost as though she wanted me to let my guard down. Kept asking me what I did for fun, wanting to more about Raph…" she cut off the sentence abruptly and began to fiddle with the tie on her pajama bottoms, wrapping and unwrapping it around her finger, "Just seemed odd."

Stan grunted, "She may have had a plan to somehow disable you if she could get you drunk or compromised in some way."

Mary actually barked a laugh, "Yeah…she did want us to use the hot tub."

Stan and Marshall shared an 'oh, really!' glance and Marshall teased, "You never know until you try, I guess."

He was happy to get the usual scathing glare from his partner for that one and wiggled his eyebrows at her as she rolled her eyes.

"But did she ever have a chance to get a weapon?" Stan asked.

Mary shook her head, "Not when she was with me. She could've had it all along, the agency guys could've given it to her or it could've been at the second house before we got there. There're too many unknowns."

Marshall sighed, "We don't even know when G-Dog came into possession of the weapon. Maybe Francesca's prints were planted? It could've been a weapon she had handled months, years before and been kept until now."

"She was so irritated when I called the cops. Really didn't want them involved even though the situation was already escalating. I just wonder if there was some sort of plan in place…but for what? Why?" Mary hit her pain button again as she tried to get more comfortable. The strain of the morning was starting to catch up but she didn't want to complain yet and wanted to keep brainstorming.

Marshall added to Mary's statement, "You know, when I talked to her here, she actually blamed you for getting shot. Said it was your fault because you had called the police, and that the situation would've defused on its own if you would've left it alone."

Mary looked incredulous, "Did you smack her senseless? Because that's utter bullshit. You don't believe that, do you?" looking at both men.

"Hell, no." said Stan.

"Of course not." followed Marshall, "I saw what was going on in broad daylight, I can't imagine it got better after dark." He sighed and shook his head slightly, "I should've stayed."

Mary pointed her finger at her partner with a warning, "Don't." Her voice was pitched low, his eyes met hers and he knew not to go down the blaming road.

There was a knock on the door then, and Marshall immediately rose to stand in front of Mary while Stan moved to open the door. It was the floor manager to let them know he had gotten Mary a new room on the floor above them and she could move anytime. The new room was in the name Mary Miller, and there would be a security detail remaining up here on this empty room per their request unless there were too many admissions and they needed the room.

The aide came in to help Mary and the men get her things together and brought a wheelchair for Mary. She had to accept some help from Marshall as her legs were still a bit wobbly from the activities earlier.

"You're looking tired, Mare. We'll get you settled into the new digs and then let you rest."

She couldn't argue, "You two need to get back to the office and figure a few things out anyway. Call me with an update later."

Marshall protested, "I'm not leaving you here alone. Are you going to club them with a call light if they find you?"

"Leave me your secondary and bring mine when you come back later with chocolate." She smiled sweetly at him.

He perked up a bit at the glimpse of her old self, "You'd let wander the mean streets with only one piece?"

"Shoot them once and then bore them to death with a lecture on the rate of blood loss or something." She waved her hand in the air at him and he chuckled.

Stan spoke up, "I'm pretty sure Mary's not supposed to have a gun…" he trailed off as both his Inspectors gave him a look that silenced any further debate, "Okay…I'm sure I can find a valid reason to override the regs on this one."

Mary's new nurse and the aide got her set up in her new room while Marshall and Stan scoped out the exits and vulnerable spots to make them feel a little better about leaving her there.

"This move won't be in the system, and now she under a pseudonym, and since only the manager and us know where she moved to, they'll never look for her here. She'll be fine." Stan clapped Marshall on the shoulder and told him to go say goodbye to Mary while he hit the restroom.

Marshall handed over his secondary piece and Mary thanked him and checked it before placing it in her duffel that she kept on the table next to the bed. Still uncharacteristically quiet and distant, Marshall had to make sure she was okay.

"Hey. You all right? You seem…out of sorts beyond what I would expect."

She shrugged and lied, "Tired, and admittedly a little freaked out, but other than that I'm fine." She was in no way ready to talk about Raph.

He knew she was lying and tried to probe again, "Did you talk to your family or Raph today?" seeing her slight wince with Raph's name, he knew his earlier suspicions were correct and wondered when she was going to tell him about it.

"No, haven't heard from them. I'm going to call them and let them know to stay home today. Safer for everyone." Picking at the hem on her sleeve to avoid making eye contact.

"Mare…"

"What?" snapping at him now, she gave him an impatient look, "Why are you still here? I'm tired, Marshall and I want to take a nap. Go back to the office and I'll see you later."

"Yes, you will." He replied dryly, thinking they would have a conversation if she wanted that chocolate. Marshall wasn't going to chance a peck on the cheek today. She was in a punching mood, so he just left her with instruction, "Be safe."

Mary closed her eyes and beat down the sense of loss and sadness she felt as Marshall left. She really needed to regroup, get her priorities in order so she could heal and contribute to the case. Since he had helped her to the wheelchair, Mary could still smell him on her pajamas. The damn man needed to stop wearing aftershave or stop touching her. Her brain voted for the latter while her heart voted for the former…Mary ordered them both to shut up and go to sleep.

A phrase kept wandering through her thoughts as she drifted into dreamland: "…I'm going to fight for you…" She didn't know where it came from or what it meant, but it was somehow comforting and she tucked it away to think about later.

***** Mary's not used to being vulnerable, it's going to drive her nuts. I used Marshall's pseuo-last name for her because I thought Stan would think the Agency already knew the 'Shepherd' alias. Gotta hide her from their own people to be on the safe side. Your reviews have been wonderful!!! Please keep pushing the litte REVIEW button :D *****


	13. Why Let Your Shoulders Bend?

***** Okay...this one is really long, but it all fit. A lot of angst, but some resolution too. Did you all even think Raph would come out of this looking good? Foolish mortals! *****

* * *

Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;  
There's no telling where it starts or how it ends.  
Speak to me, why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me when your silence is my greatest fear?  
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong?  
Speak to me.

---Trouble Me, 10,000 Maniacs

* * *

Mary had slept the rest of the morning and woke around 12:30 when lunch was brought in. She carefully used the restroom under the watchful eye of yet another nurse, Cassie, and got herself ensconced in the recliner to eat her food. The hospital food was surprising good, and she also found out they had a room service option if she wanted to order up some snacks or treats later. For whatever reason, the universe dictated there be jello with every meal and she set it aside for Marshall without thought.

Dreading what she would find, but having no other option for brain entertainment as she had nothing to read, Mary flipped on the TV in hopes of finding a program other than soaps or talk shows. She perked up a bit to find a full cable selection, and settled in to watch a CSI:NY marathon. Mary secretly harbored a little crush on the actor in the lead role. She and Marshall usually watched cop shows together and made fun of all the inaccuracies in procedure and gun play, and she sighed as she missed the Tom Servo to her Crow.

There was a knock on the door, and Mary's hand reached into her duffel bag as she called to enter. To her surprise, Dershowitz was her visitor and she smiled a greeting as she relaxed.

"Hey, D! What the hell are you doing here?" then thinking and narrowing her eyes, "And how did you find me?"

Dershowitz saw her remove her hand from the bag and smiled back at the surprisingly alert woman in the chair, "Your illustrious colleagues were persuaded to let me in on your secret identity. What 'cha got in the bag, Inspector?"

"Lip balm." Mary answered with a completely straight face, and the two stared at each other for a few moments before chuckling simultaneously.

"Take a seat, Bobby. Tell me what's going on."

Dershowitz pulled a chair over while really looking at Mary. She had lost a significant amount of weight, and her cheek, jaw and collarbones were prominent. It bothered him for some reason, and he wanted to bring her food. He had always viewed her as a formidable opponent, but she looked somehow small and vulnerable in her current state and he had the same thought as Marshall regarding the men looking for her this morning…she wouldn't have stood a chance. It made his gut burn with anger at the man who shot her and any others whose fingers were in this pie.

"Oh, you know, same shit different day. You look really good, Mary…so much better than the last time I saw you." he was shaking his head at the memory of visiting her in the ICU two days after the shooting.

"I've heard that a lot. Won't be long before I'm out of here and harassing you again…oh wait, it's usually you harassing me."

Bobby laughed, "I'm sure we'll be trying to piss on the same fire hydrant in too short a time."

Mary grimaced, "Oh, nice imagery Dershowitz." She tilted her head a bit as she looked at him, "I want to apologize if this whole mess has caused you any problems. I obviously didn't know what I was dragging you into."

Bobby's eyebrows shot up with the apology. This was not the Mary he was used to. "It's been interesting, I must say, but ultimately the fact that you're okay crowds out the rest of the issues."

"There's a few people who say I overreacted, shouldn't have called you." she shrugged and contemplated, "Maybe I should've called Marshall."

Thinking about the night in question, Dershowitz tried to alleviate her doubts, "Mary, you assessed it correctly. If I hadn't have come when I did, you probably would've had a houseful of angry cokeheads. That would've have turned out any better." rubbing his head, he grimaced, "You certainly didn't want your partner there when you got shot, that's for sure."

Mary looked at him questionably and he continued, "Girl, I don't like you half the time and I nearly puked when it happened. Marshall would've lost it."

She knew he was right and shuddered slightly as she remembered her own reactions to seeing Marshall get shot. Mary wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Sensing the downward turn of her mood, Dershowitz picked a lighter topic to introduce, and he and Mary chatted for about a half hour until physical therapy came to take her to the gym. She quipped to Bobby that they didn't even charge her a membership fee, and he told her to wait for the hospital bill. Laughing together, he bade her goodbye and Mary settled into the wheelchair for a ride to torture

***********

She had pushed herself hard in the gym and was paying for it now. The IV pain medicine had worked well enough until she had gotten back into bed after dinner. Now, despite using the button every fifteen minutes, Mary's gut throbbed and her back kept delivering little lightning bolts of agony into her shoulders when she moved. This recovery process combined all of her least favorite things: weakness, dependence and patience. The more she experienced the first two, the less she had of the third, and her poor nurse was taking the brunt of Mary's frustration.

"You know," Mary sarcastically drawled to Cassie as she was offered ibuprofen for her pain, "instead of the ibuprofen, why don't you get me a lollipop. It would work just as well."

Cassie wasn't sure how to handle Mary, and thought maybe an explanation of the pain control regimen might work, "Mrs. Miller, you have to let the pain medicine actually work, and then you can't wait too long to take the next dose. You should time it so that when you first feel pain…" she was rudely cut off by her patient.

"Shut your hole. Now you sound like my goddamn partner and that is no way to get onto my good side." Shifting in bed and glaring at the young nurse as her back complained again, Mary snarled, "Could you at least get me a heating pad or something for my back? Would that be acceptable?"

Cassie hurried to agree in order to get out of the room and slipped out the door.

Mary was rubbing her temples as her cell phone rang and she grabbed it with a curt, "Mary."

"Mary? What did you say to Raph? Why does he have to leave? What's going on?" Brandi's tear filled voice filled her ear and she beat her head repeatedly back into the pillows. Taking a deep breath, she tried to placate her sister.

"Raph and I decided that our relationship is not going to work. He's moving back home to be with his mother."

"What?! Mary, he said you told him he had to leave. That you were kicking him out."

Mary saw red and hissed into the phone, "He said what?? That is a fucking lie, Brandi. He told me he had to move back home to help out his mother and knew we weren't going to work out…which we weren't." Sitting up in anger with a grunt, Mary continued, "Put that bastard on the phone right now!"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Raph was never one to lie and deceive people. What the hell was going through the man's mind to make him blatantly lie to her family? Brandi came back on the phone in a few minutes. She was still crying.

"He said he can't talk to you right now because he's too angry with you. I don't understand this, Mary…I don't know who to believe."

"What do you mean you don't know who to believe? I'm your fucking sister…you better believe me! He came to **me**, Brandi…told me he had decided it wasn't going to work and was moving home. Jesus, why would I lie about this?" Mary was almost in tears now too. She couldn't believe she was trying to convince her own family she was telling the truth. Had Raphael not hurt her badly enough by breaking the engagement? Now he was trying to blame her for it?

"Dammit, Squish, walk this phone to that man and make him talk to me!...Right now." Mary used her Marshal voice on her sister knowing it would spur the proper action.

She heard Brandi telling Raph to talk to her and trying to give him the phone. The conversation between them just made her more furious.

"I'm not talking to her. She's made her choice and I'm not staying here to lick my wounds." Raph's voice was angry.

"She says you were the one to decide to go home and that **you're** lying to us!" Brandi pleaded. "_Oh great,_" thought Mary, "_Jinx must be there too._"

"If you want to talk about lying, why don't you ask your sister about her lies, huh? She's the expert on lying…lies all the time. Lies about where's she's been, who she has been with…she even lies about her job!"

Mary just about came out of the bed and silently pleaded for Raph to shut up. If he spoke one word about her job to Brandi, Mary swore she would have him arrested, sure that Stan would find something to charge him with.

"Brandi…put me on the speaker right now…right now!!" Mary yelled into the phone. She heard the beep and talked over Raph's next words.

"Shut your mouth, Raph…shut it right now. You are not going to do this. I swear you will regret whatever you say next if you cross the line." Tears were streaming down her face now.

There was blessed silence on the other end and Mary was breathing heavily with emotion. "What the hell are you doing, Raph? Why did you tell Brandi those lies? Are you so desperate to look like the good guy that you would blame me for this?"

"You think you can dismiss me so easily Mary?" She could tell Raph had picked up the phone, moved to a different location and taken her off speaker, "You didn't even look sorry today…not sad…not upset. You will no longer dance me around like a puppet, then cut my strings and expect me to fall at your feet. No more."

"Raph, I don't know what you're talking about. You were the one to say it wasn't going to work. I'm not going to argue because we both know it's true. What did you expect? A dramatic display of weeping and wailing? Who do you think I am?" Mary had a look of disbelief on her face.

"All this time of keeping secrets…of telling me whatever you want to tell me, or not tell me, and there was nothing I could do about it…nothing. I said to myself it was okay. Today it became not okay. Today I looked at you and saw you push me aside like I was food you were finished with." Raph's voice broke and Mary was stunned.

"Raph…that's not how it was." She whispered. "_My God,_" she thought, "_all this because I didn't shed a tear?_"

"I do not care what you say anymore." He whispered back, "I get my say now. See how it feels to not know what is going on. To have to guess about what I am doing."

Mary really didn't like the tone of his voice or the threat behind his words and her heart was pounding, "Raphael, you are not that kind of person. You are not someone who deliberately hurts other people. You leave my family alone, you hear me. I will find you if anything bad happens to them."

"I would never hurt your family Mary, but I will leave **you** with the misery of unraveling the lies."

He hung up and Mary just stared at the phone. She had no idea who that man was that she just talked to, someone so full of spite and revenge. Had she done that to him? Had she been so careless with his feelings? He had once told her he wondered how someone so cold could burn so hot…a cold hearted bitch…she had heard that phrase used to describe her more than once by more than one person. Always worn the label like a badge. No one could get to her. Mary never thought it would be used against her, never believed it would cause the people she loved pain.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she knew she had to talk to Brandi and Jinx and warn them of Raph's plans. Thinking Raph might still have Brandi's phone, she called her mother's instead.

Jinx's whiny accusations resonated in her ear, "Mary! Why did you do those things? How could you? Now he's leaving!"

Mary took a deep breath and spoke calmly and slowly, "Mom…what did he say I did? Listen to me…Raph's very angry right now and he's trying to get back at me by telling you lies about me. **He **broke off our engagement this morning. **He** broke it off, Mom. His sister is moving and he's moving back home to take care of his mother."

Mary tensed as she thought she heard ice cubes in a glass before Jinx spoke again, "He said you would say that…that you would try to blame him. You were never nice to him. Always treating him like a child, but to do **that**…and right under his nose."

"What, Mom? What did he say I did?"

"Sleeping with your partner and throwing it in Raphael's face! Don't pretend we all didn't know what you were doing, young lady!" Jinx's voice seemed off, but Mary barely heard it as Raph's accusation made her ears ring.

Raphael knew just what button to push with Brandi and Jinx, Mary decided. Those two were the worst at finding innuendos in every conversation and gesture between her and Marshall. Always hinting at a nonexistent impropriety. It had driven her insane for a while until she just let it go and ignored them. Raph's little digs about Marshall the other day rattled through her brain and she just became more and more irate. Lying about her was one thing, but to drag Marshall into this was well over the line.

Game face on now, Mary spoke to her mother in a low and steady voice, "It never happened, Mom. Never. I am your daughter, I'm the one you believe. Do you hear me? Don't you dare believe him."

"Why shouldn't I?" Now she could hear the slight slur in her mother's voice and Mary rested her head against the side rail in distress as she knew Jinx was drinking. "Why should I believe you, Mary? You who lied to me all these years about your father. The letters you kept from me. I see how you look at Marshall…now I know."

"Jesus, Mom…those letters are ancient, fucking history. We have been through this and I'm not doing it again. If you want the goddamn things, just take them. I am not lying to you. My God, if you don't believe me, at least think about what you know about Marshall. He would never do that!" Mary broke off and wondered she was even trying to make sense to her mother. The woman who told her she ruins everything. A narcissistic woman who ignored and neglected her her whole life, and here she was like a ten year old begging for approval. What was the point?

"You know what, Mom? I changed my mind. I don't give a flying rat's ass what you believe. But I'll tell you this, if you're drinking again when I get home, your things will be on the curb too." Mary hung up and sobbed for a few minutes, then dialed Brandi's number.

"Mary…are you okay?" Brandi actually sounded concerned.

"Squish, Mom's drinking again."

She heard Brandi sob, "I know. I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry about Chico, Mary. I want you to know that I don't believe what he's saying. You would never do that…and neither would Marshall."

Her sister's belief in her opened the floodgates for more tears and Mary whispered, "Thanks, Squish…that means a lot." Sniffling, Mary gathered herself and spoke again, "Call Peter and have him come and get you and Mom and ask him if you both can stay at his place. Mom won't be able to drink there and he knows how to handle that. Tell him I asked. I'm worried about Raph and I'd feel better if you and mom weren't there."

"Chico's just sitting on the couch drinking a beer. He's not even talking to us anymore."

"Just ignore him and go with Peter when he gets there, okay?"

Brandi sniffed a few more times and agreed, and Mary hung up feeling a little better. Cassie never did come back with a heating pad, and Mary pushed the button on her pain pump a dozen times in frustration. She knew it would only give her one dose, and it pissed her off to have one more thing out of her control. Her head was pounding and she was nauseous with the stress, fear and anger.

She sat there crying on and off and brooding until her phone rang about twenty minutes later. It was Raph. She only answered it because she wasn't sure if Brandi and Jinx were safe yet.

"What could you possibly want, Raph?"

He was angry, and she could tell he was talking through clenched teeth, "Did you really think I would harm them, Mary? You had to send them away from me because you thought I was dangerous to them?"

"I don't know who you are right now, Raphael. I don't know this man who would tell lies to my family because his little feelings got hurt."

"You push me and push me, Mary, and this is what happens to people who get pushed too hard. They push back."

"Not like this, asshole! You don't attack the people around them. God, Raph…stand up for yourself like a man. You're acting like a child…like a playground bully. Shit, if you want a piece of me you know where I am." Mary's voice was raised again, "You leave my family, and Marshall, alone. I swear to God, Raph, if you don't back off I will follow you down to that rat hole of a country and rip your fucking dick off!"

His voice was a sneer, "And that's what it's all about isn't it? Marshall. Maybe you did sleep with him, hmmm? Maybe it's been going on for a while?"

She was done. Done with him and completely worn out, "You know what? You want to tell lies about me and Marshall? You go ahead, because he is a thousand times more of a man than you are. You could only dream of being like him…I would die for him." Her voice shook and she choked up, having to take a few breaths to finish, "Go home, Raph. You better be out my house by morning."

Hanging up, Mary gently put the phone on the table by her duffel bag and then proceeded to throw the pillow against the far wall. The action wasn't nearly as satisfying as she needed it to be and her eyes fell on the rolling tray table with the remnants of dinner. It fit of pique, accompanied with a string of profanity, she slid the table as hard as she could against the wall and watched in gratification as it overturned and all its contents spilled onto the floor. Body and soul aching, Mary curled up on the bed and sobbed.

*****

Marshall approached Mary's room and heard a voice behind him calling his name and he turned.

"Mr. Miller…Mr. Miller…wait a minute." Cassie was walking swiftly towards him.

"What's up, Cassie?"

"She is not in a good mood, I want you know before you go in there. She's been yelling at people on the phone for about forty minutes now. I just didn't want you to walk in there unaware."

He chuckled, "Well, that sounds pretty much like any other day with Mary, but thanks for the heads up."

Approaching the door quietly, Marshall slipped in as he heard her talking on the phone and stayed by the bathroom door. Not quite sure why he was being secretive, he tuned into the conversation and became concerned.

"_I don't know who you are right now, Raphael. I don't know this man who would tell lies to my family because his little feelings got hurt."_

It didn't sound like Raphael was playing fair and he regretted not knocking some sense into the man yesterday after the phone stunt.

"_Not like this, asshole! You don't attack the people around them. God, Raph…stand up for yourself like a man. You're acting like a child…like a playground bully. Shit, if you want a piece of me you know where I am. You leave my family, and Marshall, alone. I swear to God, Raph, if you don't back off I will follow you down to that rat hole of a country and rip your fucking dick off!"_

Very concerned now. Not only was she threatening the man in order to protect Marshall and her family, she was offering herself instead.

"_You know what? You want to tell lies about me and Marshall? You go ahead, because he is a thousand times more of a man than you are. You could only dream of being like him…I would die for him."_ Her voice broke, _"Go home, Raph. You better be out my house by morning."_

He jumped slightly as the pillow hit the wall, then flinched when the table followed and items crashed to the floor. An aide came to the door and Marshall waved them away.

He stood in place as his chest ached. Her words were powerful and the honesty with which she uttered them could not be mistaken. He was humbled by the honor she had just bestowed upon him, and Marshall hadn't known she thought so highly of him. Knew she respected him, and because they had been partners and friends for so long, he knew she would take a bullet for him and defend him at all costs. But to hear it said so simply, and so fiercely…_I would die for him._

Mary was fighting for him. Actually calling someone out to beat the living shit out of them in his defense. It gave him the oddest feeling. He felt…treasured. This woman held him dear, even though she treated him like a bad penny most days, and he could do no less than offer her the same.

Moving to the edge of the room, he saw her curled up on top of the covers facing away from him. She was sobbing, and he knew she wouldn't want him to see her like this, but he couldn't leave her like this either.

"Mare." calling to her softly.

She held herself still and sniffled, "Goddammit, Marshall. Go away."

"I can't do that."

Mary took a shaky breath and silently cursed her partner's timing and sense of chivalry. She was a mess, and did not want to see him or talk to him.

"Fine. Stand there like an idiot. I don't care."

"Can I clean this up for you?" He didn't want to start picking things up if she wanted them to stay on the floor.

She sighed, "Do whatever the hell you want."

At least his presence had allowed her to calm slightly, and Mary was able to stop sobbing. Tears still fell, but they were slow and heavy with release instead of laced with anger and pain. She listened to him pick up the mess she had caused and wondered if he thought she was going to talk to him.

"I'm not going to talk about it." A preemptive strike.

Marshall smiled slightly at her defensive tone. A sure fire precursor to talking about it, but he played along, "I know. But I'm here in case you need…someone to be here."

"I don't want you here, Marshall. Go home." She needed to distance herself from him before some crazy part of her decided to start spilling her soul.

He had picked up most of the mess and grabbed a towel from the bathroom to wipe some liquid off the floor. Her words didn't have any venom to them, and he knew it was like a false charge from a bear. A lot of display and bravado, but if you just stood your ground it would end.

"I don't have anything to do at home."

There was no way she could put this whole disaster of an evening into words. Didn't even know if she had the energy to speak more than a few words at a time. Mary felt utterly drained, and her partner's presence made her crave some comfort she would not allow herself to have.

"You're pissing me off."

He was sitting in a chair now, still staying on the side of the bed by the door. "I always piss you off."

"Are you going to have a snappy comeback to everything I say? Because that might make me throw more things…at you."

Wisely silent, Marshall dug into his bag and pulled out a package of Dove chocolates. Mary's favorite. He took one piece out and leaned over to gently set it on her hip.

Mary grunted at the contact and swatted the chocolate off onto the bed behind her. He just sat back and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later her hand reached behind her and felt around until she snagged the little square.

The chocolate was heavenly. Mary hadn't had a piece in so long and Marshall had brought the kind she really liked. She had to smile at the fact he had remembered to bring some. The act of kindness made her cry some more and she was distressed to find her emotions so near the surface. It had felt good to tell off her mother and Raph, though, and it would probably feel good to tell Marshall everything, but she wasn't ready to do that. Maybe just give him the basic outline of events? That shouldn't be too painful and Mary thought she could keep herself under control for that.

"Raph broke off our engagement this morning." Mary wondered how her brain managed to betray her even when she was wide awake. Going right for the big knife and twisting it.

"I'm really sorry, Mare."

"Well, I think we all know it was shaky to start with. You and I talked about that the other night."

Marshall remembered her nightmare. "It doesn't make it any easier."

Mary stretched her legs out a bit, then hit the pain button again as even that small movement hurt. Something had to give with this pain, she decided. If it wasn't getting better soon she'd call Cassie in again. She tried to focus on Marshall.

"He has to move back home for his mother." Marshall saw her shrug slightly, then grunt before talking again, "I thought it was done. We didn't fight…but I didn't argue either. Just agreed with him and he left."

"I take it that wasn't the end of it?" Marshall set another chocolate on her hip, and this time she just took it. He knew she didn't like to make eye contact when talking about things like this.

"No." A minute passed before she continued, "He lied to Brandi and Jinx and told them I broke the engagement and kicked him out. Brandi called me right after he told them to ask me what happened."

Marshall took a deep breath and shifted in his seat, the only outward signs of his anger. Why would Raph do that? What would be the motivation for something that manipulative and petty?

"Why?"

He wasn't sure if she heard him because she was quiet for a while, but then she spoke again and he could tell there were more tears.

"It was ugly. I was on the phone trying to get him to talk to me as he was telling Brandi I lie to everyone…I thought he was going to say something about WITSEC and was yelling at him over the speaker. Jesus. Finally got him on the line to find out he was put out because I didn't cry about the whole thing. Can you believe that shit? Said I had made him feel powerless because I never told him what I was doing, so he was going to pay me back by lying to my family. His words were, 'see how it feels to not know what's going on'."

Marshall was appalled at the power play, and could only imagine Mary's panic at not knowing whether Raph would blow her cover to her family. He knew one of Mary's greatest fears was to be helpless and Raph's actions played on that perfectly. Marshall wondered if he could still catch the bastard at Mary's house later. He was pulled back to the present as Mary spoke again.

"The worst part was that at first Brandi and Jinx didn't believe me. I was so angry that they would even chose to believe him over me that I was almost sick. I was able to convince Brandi, but Jinx still thinks Raphael walks on water." She coughed and groaned, and Marshall started wondering how much pain she was in. "You know what he told them? I guess I should tell you since you were sucked into his little alternate reality."

"That we were sleeping together?" Marshall had heard that part.

She was suspicious, "How much of my conversation with him did you hear?"

"Bits and pieces of the last part" he partially lied, "But it's not like that rumor hasn't been passed around the country since we've been partners. I'm not worried about it."

"I just don't want you dragged into this. He doesn't have that right."

Marshall thought about her words about him earlier, "I'm a part of your life, Mare. I'm bound to get dragged into the messy bits eventually."

That made her feel good…not so alone. And it was true. Marshall had seen every part of her life, and most parts were messy. Echoing the thoughts of her partner so many nights prior, Mary wondered when they had become so intertwined. She was no longer sure she'd be able to disentangle this one.

Mary rolled over slowly and painfully with a curse or two along the way. Marshall shifted over so he could see her and frowned. Tearstained face, furrowed brow and reddened eyes, his partner looked like she had been through the wringer. Another evil, revenging thought was sent Raph's way as he got up to get her a cool, wet washcloth. Moving a few strands of her hair out of the way, Marshall set it on her forehead and Mary adjusted it slightly to almost cover her eyes. She sighed.

"Marshall, I hurt so bad and the pain medicine isn't working well. It's been bad for hours. Can you find Cassie for me?" She just knew he'd take care of it if she handed it to him, and she was tired of fighting.

He was up in an instant with the uncharacteristic complaint, and out in the hall talking to Cassie a minute later. Using charm and subtle cues to obey, Marshall was able to get Cassie to call the doc for some supplemental IV pain medicine. He went back to the room to let Mary know relief was in the works, and ten minutes later her nurse was able to give her a dose of morphine.

She didn't know how tightly she had been holding herself for those bad hours until the new drug coursed through her system and she was able to stretch out and relax. Marshall had positioned himself so he could see the TV and rub her neck at the same time, and she allowed him to knead her cramped muscles as she groaned. It was bliss. She may have said that out loud because her partner chuckled and lecherously offered to rub other muscles. Mary snorted and swatted at him weakly. Her eyelids grew heavy and she vaguely remembered being tucked under the covers before finally drifting to sleep.

***** Marshall is tenacious, isn't he? Bad...bad Raph!! Anyone get the Tom Servo and Crow reference?? Let me know :D Please REVIEW...gracias *****


	14. How That Would Feel

***** Oh, those thoughts that ramble around in your head during the dark, wee hours of the morning. Mary finally takes a step in the right direction :) *****

I watched from a distance as you made life your own  
every sky was your own kind of blue  
and I wanted to know how that would feel  
and you made it so real  
you showed me something that I couldn't see  
you opened my eyes and you made me believe

---Crazier, Taylor Swift

* * *

"_Nope,_" Mary decided, "_wasn't going to happen._"

She had been lying awake for about a half hour thinking she could fall back to sleep, but her eyes remained stubbornly open in the darkness of the room. It was quiet on the floor at 4:45 in the morning, only an occasional patter of footsteps or rattle of some piece of equipment moving by the door was heard, and her mind was busy filling the silence with reviews of the scenes from the day before.

Mary was pretty sure she'd rank it up there as one of the most annoying and emotionally challenging days of her life. Still utterly confounded by the stunning actions of her ex-fiance, she could only fall back on the old adage that a person's true colors shine through when the chips are down. Raph's colors were dark and bruised and she was actually a bit relieved to have seen that side of him…icing on the cake of resolve to end the relationship. It was as though a switch had been thrown by their breakup. Even his voice seemed off as she was talking to him. She mentally shook herself to keep from traveling down that depressing highway, and turned her thoughts to the next stain on the evening. Her mother's drinking.

It was not surprising that Jinx had slid back into the bottle with all the stress of the shooting. Her mother was not a woman to handle crises well…or at all. Mary was going to enlist Peter's help and try to keep her mother from having to go back to rehab. Jinx trusted Peter, and Brandi would be on board to help, so there was actually a small chance that they could all work together to salvage the situation. Mary couldn't imagine what it must be like living in that house right now, a trash compactor of anxiety and drama, and was truly glad Raph would be gone. One less presence to loom over her or hinder her recovery with their own neediness.

And speaking of hindering her recovery, Mary was pretty sure attempts on her life would put a damper on healing. Focusing again on the night of the shooting, she squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes of recalling the one bit of information that must be the key to the other side's nervousness.

…_Mario at the door. Francesca was sitting in the chair looking quite blasé. Didn't get up…._

…_pushing Mario off the porch as Bobby D. arrived. Francesca in the house…_

…_boys across the street and Mario in front of her, reaching behind his back…_

…_then a glint behind him and to the left…a gun…movement on the porch through the doorway of the house and she was pulling her weapon while shouting the warning…_

…_then nothing…_

Her eyebrows raised now, she suddenly realized that her memories revealed just a bit more than before. She never saw the shooter, she was sure, but the movement on the porch lingered in her mind as important. It must've been Francesca, but she just couldn't be sure. Mary decided to ask Marshall to bring in the transcripts of the statements of all the witnesses tomorrow. Maybe reading through them would help her clear up the last bit of the spiderwebs.

Marshall. Down the mental rabbit hole into that crazy tea party of emotions and hormones. "_Good pep talk, Mary,_" she chastised herself, "_way to emotionally disconnect…or not._"

His patience and persistence with her last night touched her. She knew he knew something was wrong when he had left earlier in the day, and he had come back bearing gifts of comfort. Able to weather her storm once again, he managed to calm her raging mood with an uncanny ability to read her subtlest cues and predict her reactions. Ducking the blows with ease and coaxing the hurts out into the open where he could soothe them. He had left the chocolates with her along with a note telling her she could either throw them or eat them…whichever made her feel better. She was smiling at the thought.

Mary recalled his strong fingers rubbing her neck and shoulders while she had slowly succumbed to the pain medicine. She'd never let anyone else touch her like that, but she didn't seem to set boundaries on her partner. She snorted in disbelief as she remembered letting him touch her staples. Raph never would've been granted that liberty. He was the one person whose touch was always trustworthy…never disturbing or threatening, and even when she rejected contact it wasn't because of the touch, but because of the circumstances.

Trustworthy…she rolled that word around in her head. That he was. Mary could not even fabricate a situation in which she would not be able to trust Marshall. He would have to be taken over by aliens for her to ever doubt his loyalty to her. She rolled her eyes as she thought he'd probably think that was an exciting adventure. He never gave up on her, would never let her completely close him out. Sure, he'd give her space and time to work things out on her own when she hit rough patches, but it was never too long before he'd come knocking at the proverbial door and either let her use him for target practice or as a shoulder to cry on. Of course, she couldn't stay away from him for long either. The man fought through her defenses every time.

Mary had a moment of clarity that caused her to sit up in the bed. The words and phrases that had flitted through her brain a few nights before now assembled themselves in front of her and attached themselves to a voice.

"…_I'm going to fight for you…I'm not going to let you go…"_ Marshall had said those words to her while she drifted between worlds.

The knowledge sent tingles up her spine for some reason and she nervously laughed out loud. She had had men fight with her, fight around her and fight to be free of her…but Mary had never had a man fight **for** her before. It made her feel odd…wanted and protected. She liked it, but frowned slightly when she wondered if she deserved it as she remembered her train wreck of a life had now abducted him as a passenger. She had never been good at sorting out her feelings about men, especially as she had never cared to before Raph. Realizing now that that was less of trying to sort out feelings and more of trying to rationalize against her gut, Mary had to admit to herself that Marshall was the first man to cause her to wonder about her actions and reactions when he was around her.

Thinking of some sage advice that suddenly made a little more sense, Mary looked at the clock. It was 5:15 in the morning, and she picked up the hospital phone to make a few short calls before setting a destination. Calling her nurse, Mary asked to have her IV unhooked and told her she was going to take a walk. Her nurse looked a bit hesitant, but after Mary proved she could walk up and down the hall without stumbles or balance checks, the nurse agreed to let her walk if she had an aide go with her.

The first place Mary looked when she entered the ICU was bed two. It was empty, and she felt a pang of sorrow as she knew the man who had been in that bed did not survive. It could've so easily been her and there was this moment of panic…a second to frantically wonder how much time she truly had and how much she had to do. It passed, but firmed her resolve to talk to Kelly.

Kelly had been watching for her since her phone call, and waved her over as she sat at a table parked in front of a patient room. Assuring the aide that she would call Mary's nurse when Mary was ready to come back, Kelly sent him on his way and motioned Mary to take the chair she had pulled up next to her.

"You look amazing, girl! Absolutely amazing." Kelly was shaking her head as she looked Mary over. "God, I love to see my patients after they've healed. It truly is the reward that is most gratifying…just that feeling that I did something good."

Mary was smiling, a little embarrassed at the attention and changed the subject, "So, what good thing are you doing sitting over her in front of this room?" She couldn't really see into the room as the curtain was mostly pulled, but knew there was a patient in there as Kelly would occasionally stare at something and fill in a value on some papers.

"This guy is super sick and requires my undivided attention, so he's my only patient. It's been a bad day for this dude." She wrote one or two more things down then continued, "So…not that you'd need an excuse to see me, but I'm wondering what prompted your visit."

"I think I had an epiphany, but I need a second opinion." Mary offered with a grin.

"Usually when people have an epiphany, they're pretty sure that's what it is." Kelly said wryly.

Mary huffed, "Well I've never had one before, so this is uncharted territory. And for the record, I don't usually ask people for their opinion unless physically threatened, so you should count yourself as honored."

The nurse laughed, "All right, all right. Ask away."

"You told me that I should look at what's right in front of me…listen to my heart." Kelly was nodding and Mary plowed ahead, "I was sure you were talking about my relationship with Raphael, but now I'm thinking you may have been talking about something else."

There was a gleam in Kelly's eye as she tried to smother a grin, "Figured that out, did ya?"

"What did you see?" Mary was looking at her intently, and Kelly was careful. She wanted to help Mary, but didn't want to reveal anything that would harm Marshall.

"I saw a man will every ounce of mental, physical and emotional energy into a dying woman so that she would live. I saw him comfort her, cry for her, encourage her and protect her every day that she could not do those things on her own, and I knew that if I had asked him to trade places with her he would've done it in willingly…in a heartbeat."

Mary sat and stared at her with one hand slightly covering her mouth. Kelly could tell she was working hard to keep emotions at bay.

"Mary, do you trust him?"

The blonde woman took a deep breathe and nodded, "With my life. But I don't trust myself."

Kelly leaned over to place her hand on Mary's forearm, "Let him show you how. Second chances are the universe's way of telling you to get it right this time. It must be really important for you to get that big of a kick in the ass."

Mary chuckled and picked at the tape on her IV as she considered Kelly's words. She didn't know what had compelled her to seek this woman out, but she knew the answer she had received was true.

"You know, I take no responsibility for you pulling out that IV and I'm not putting a new one in." Kelly caught her attention again and she waited for Mary to look at her, "You're not done healing Mary…inside and out. Take it slow and try it on a little bit here and there to see how it feels, but don't resist it. He's a smart man, he'll know what he's seeing and what to do with it."

It made sense to Mary, and she breathed a little easier as she realized there were no enormous undertakings here. She didn't have to shout from a rooftop or send out announcements, she just had to let herself feel. Pondering that for a moment, she decided that might be just as hard, but Kelly was right; Marshall knew her like no one else and he would never hurt her…never push her. Life may just get a little more interesting.

They chatted for a little while longer and Kelly regaled her with hilarious stories from the ICU. Mary's nurse called around 6:30 to ask Mary to come back so she could asses her before report and give her her meds. Kelly gave her one of her cards, 'so she would be invited to the wedding', and Mary glared at her.

The nurse was still laughing as Mary left the unit with the aide.

***** Sometimes Mary is actually pretty smart! Well, now, this could lead us to new territory :) I know you all so wanted Kelly to meddle! Please ice my cake with REVIEWS!! *****


	15. I Wanna Roll With Him

***** The pair is back to what they do best :) Some action on the case and Mary gets good news! *****

* * *

I wanna roll with him a hard pair we will be  
A little gambling is fun when you're with me  
Russian roulette is not the same without a gun  
And baby when it's love, if its not rough it isn't fun

-- Poker Face, Lady Gaga

* * *

Mary's surgeon came by to see her around 7:30 a.m. as her breakfast also arrived. She had called Marshall around seven to ask him about those transcripts, and ended up leaving a message on his voicemail. It was unusual to get anything other than the live version of her partner at that time of the morning, and Mary hoped he didn't have another witness going ape shit on him.

Dr. Stroop was more than pleased with her progress, and Mary put on her sweetest expression as she tried to persuade him that she was more than ready to go home. It turned out that the doctor would barter after all, and he gave her the terms.

"We have to get you off the IV pain meds first. I'll have them discontinue that PCA and switch you over to oral meds. Take them on a schedule for the next couple of days, then as you need them after that. I'll leave the morphine ordered PRN through tomorrow, but you can't take that home with you. You're definitely staying today, and I'm ordering a CT scan for tomorrow morning to make sure there's nothing amiss in your gut. If that's clear, you can go home tomorrow afternoon."

She was all smiles until he said, "You need someone at home who can monitor your meds and you. I've still got you on an oral antibiotic and an oral antimicrobial to keep your gut healthy while it's healing, plus anti-reflux meds. No alcohol! You cannot, and this is an absolute, cannot drive for four weeks. Your muscles will not be strong enough to protect you in even a minor fender bender or quick stop, and I know you don't want to rip a stitch on the inside."

"Can I do everything else? Walk, swim…that sort of thing?" Mary was not going to sit around and do nothing.

"Everything within reason and in moderation. I would refrain from shooting your weapon for a couple more weeks, again, you use your abdominal muscles more than you think and they need to heal."

Mary was trying to calculate weeks in her mind, "So, you think I could go back to work in about six weeks?"

The doctor laughed and Mary's brow furrowed, "Why is that funny?"

"Mary, in my eyes, you can go back work in six weeks. I would be amazed, however, if you even completed the physical portion of the re-qual exam, much less pass it. Having watched you heal in the last week or so, I would say it'll take about ten to twelve weeks before you're up for full duty. A mere mortal would need about five months."

She was disappointed, "Seriously? That long?"

He shrugged, "The human body has to obey the laws of physics. You heal quickly, but there are timelines even you can't beat. I took pieces out of you and rearranged the plumbing, give yourself some slack."

She decided to take what she could get, and that was the permission to go home tomorrow. Of course, home meant Jinx and Brandi and Mary hoped the place wasn't a total disaster. Especially after Raph had packed up. Mary wondered if he was gone yet.

She called Stan to let him know she wanted back on desk duty in six weeks, and got his voicemail too. She wasn't worried, but definitely curious as to if there had been something interesting going on with the case, or if it was just a busy morning at work.

*****

Stan got the call at four that morning from Albuquerque PD that they had nabbed a man sneaking into Mary's old room a couple of hours before. He was dressed as a stocker, able to blend in well with the hospital personnel. If there hadn't been someone watching the room, he'd never have been noticed. He had a syringe full of fluid in his pocket, and the cops sent it to their lab for toxicology and pharmacology.

Stan called Marshall to update him, and both men traveled to the local lockup to interview the suspect by six that morning.

The man was furtive and stubborn, not even giving his name to the police. They were waiting to hear if his prints scored a hit in their system while they kept him in the interrogation room. Stan and Marshall walked in and stared at the man in the chair. Saying nothing, Marshall sat at the table across from the suspect while Stan stood slightly behind and to the right of the man. Just out of view, but close enough to make you nervous if you didn't know what he was doing back there.

"I'm not sayin' nothin'." The man spat at Marshall. He had a nasally voice and Marshall grinned a bit.

"No worries, Matt, I'll talk and you listen." He noticed the man react slightly to his name, then slump down further in the chair sullenly.

There was a knock at the door, and a young intern handed Stan a piece of paper before exiting. Stan furrowed his brow at the info, shrugged and handed it to Marshall. The tall Marshal took one look at the words on the page and clenched his jaw. His eyes were hard as they traveled back to the prisoner across from him.

"So, Matt. Let's review the charges. Trespassing, identity theft for the stolen badge, theft and attempted murder of a U.S. Marshal. Uh oh…that last one is a doozy. They usually tack the death penalty onto that one." He took the chance that Matt didn't know New Mexico had abolished the death penalty in 2009.

Matt jumped and sat up, "What? I didn't touch any one! Shannon wasn't even in the room! You can't charge me with attempted murder."

Marshall and Stan exchanged a look and Stan asked, "Did we say whose room that was, Inspector?"

Marshall had a look of perplexed innocence, "No, Chief, I don't think we did. Funny how you knew that, Matt."

"Fuck." The man in the chair sneered, knowing he had made a mistake, "But she wasn't there, so I didn't attempt to murder anyone."

"Oh, I disagree, and so will the judge. You see, that syringe contained a medication called succinylcholine. Do you know what that does, Matt?" Marshall raised his eyebrows at the man.

Matt shrugged, "Don't know, don't care. Still didn't touch her."

Marshall continued as if addressing a small child, "But you intended to put this drug in her IV. You attempted to do that, and this drug only does one thing."

Matt just stared at him.

"It's a paralytic. Ironically, in the same category as the drug they use for lethal injections." Marshall took a deep breath and leaned towards the man across from him. His voice was deadly now, "This drug would've paralyzed her within thirty seconds. She would not be able to move…or breathe. She would've suffocated silently while wide awake."

Stan didn't know that, and upon hearing the information he took a deep breath and moved closer to the seated man. Matt looked at him nervously, then back at Marshall.

"But I didn't give it to her!"

"Don't care." Marshall stared while Stan crowded, and Matt began to sweat. Finally, the man just got jumpy.

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

Stan quietly stated, "Names."

"I don't have any names! I don't check IDs when I take a job." Matt still looked squirrely, and Marshall shot Stan a quick glance.

Marshall stood and gathered his papers while Stan walked to the door.

"Hey! Wait a minute…where are you going?" Matt was scooting towards the door in the chair, "I'm not going down for attempted murder…no way!"

Marshall passed Stan the file and the older man left, shutting the door behind him. The prisoner looked nervous again, and before he could think, Marshall had moved and grabbed the back of his head to firmly press his face into the table.

Leaning down to whisper in Matt's ear, Marshall poured malice into his words, "It would be a shitty way to die, Matt…suffocating while only being able to scream in your head. They're supposed to give you a sedative before they let the paralytic infuse when you're strapped to that table. It would be so easy to skip that step. You'd be pleading with your own personal god when the potassium was injected. I hear it burns like fire before it stops your heart."

The man was sweating and shaking under the Marshal's hand, and began to mutter short phrases.

"I didn't get a name. It was a white guy, about six foot with brown hair and a suit. Smelled like a cop. I don't ask. Gave me her name and room number. I didn't know what was in the syringe. He said if I fucked up I'd hear from Nico."

"Who's Nico?"

"One of Lala's crew. Enforcer. That's all I know, man. I swear to God." Matt was pleading.

Marshall released him and headed back to the door, "You're only alive because she wasn't in that room, asshole."

He exited and closed the door behind him as Matt yelled curses and begged for help.

* * *

Marshall was still pissed when he finally arrived at the hospital mid morning. He had gotten Mary's message and grabbed the case files from his desk as he stopped in to check on a few things in the office, but he wasn't able to reach her on her phone to ask her if she needed anything else. She wasn't in her room, so he wandered down to the desk.

"Good morning," giving the young secretary a big smile, "can you tell me where Mary Miller is this morning? She's not in her room." He'd learned to be charming with the desk staff as they were notoriously tight lipped about patient information…of which he was glad.

The girl blushed and stuttered slightly, "Um…yeah…Mrs. Miller went to therapy. She should be back, like, pretty soon."

He winked at her and thanked her and she ducked her head to go back to working on her computer.

He had to chuckle slightly as he heard the 'Mrs. Miller' title applied to Mary. Heads would roll if she heard that. Setting up with the small table in the room, Marshall was making notes on the case when Mary returned about twenty minutes later. She was fussing at the aide.

"I'm perfectly capable of using the bathroom on my own. You can leave…go on."

She came through the door a moment later and startled slightly when she saw her partner, having to reach out to steady herself against the wall, "Jesus, Marshall! You're starting to sneak up on people like the rest of them."

Marshall felt kind of bad for not announcing himself, and got up to walk over as she ducked into the bathroom and closed the door. "Sorry, Mare. I was caught up in my notes…didn't hear you until you were here." He waited, leaning against the wall.

Mary opened the door as she washed her hands, "What were you and Stan up to this morning? Did you get my message?"

"We caught one of the guys after you the other day. Had to have a conversation with him."

Mary leaned against the doorframe as she emerged and faced him, grinning, "I've seen you have a "conversation" with thugs. Are his limbs still attached?"

"Only because he was already at the cop shop. Otherwise…" Marshall shrugged as he let the sentence hang.

"I'm surprised he came back. Not too bright, huh?" She shook her head and pushed off the wall to head over to her chair, wavering slightly and Marshall took a hold of her arm to walk with her.

"He was just there for the wetwork. Had a syringe full of a paralytic for you." Marshall's voice became a snarl.

Mary stopped and looked at him in disbelief, "Jesus. Not fooling around, are they?" Mary felt defenseless again and shuddered.

Marshall almost regretted telling her, but then knew she'd give him all kinds of hell if he hadn't and she had found out. Reaching out to take her other arm and turn her towards him, he focused her back on him.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Dammit, it's one thing to know there're people gunning for you, but when you can't gun back it's just a little…disturbing." She looked distressed and Marshall rubbed her upper arms.

"Do you want me to stay tonight? Just say the word." his eyes offered as freely as his voice.

Mary knew he would. Would plop his skinny little ass into that chair and not move if she asked him to. It made her smile a bit, and she reassured him.

"Nah…I'll be fine. And anyways, I get to go home tomorrow." A bigger smile now, and she turned again to finish walking to the chair.

Marshall was surprised. Last he had heard it would be three more days, "When did you find that out?" He then noticed Mary's IV pole and pain pump were gone. They must be transitioning her to oral pain meds.

Settling into the recliner with a sigh, Mary filled Marshall in on her surgeon's visit and his instructions.

"You have to behave your self for ten weeks?" He had a look of amused disbelief on his face, "That'll take an act of God."

"What?" Mary looked at him innocently from under her lashes, "You don't think I can be a good girl?"

The way she purred caused him to perk up in all the wrong places. He may need divine intervention if she was going to toy with him.

"Just don't think you're going to drag me into helping you be deviant. I agree with the doctor."

"God, you're such a Pollyanna. It's a good thing you have me around, nitwit…otherwise you'd never have any fun."

Looking thoughtful, Marshall clarified, "Riiiiight…let's see. Going to a ballgame: fun. Going to a ballgame with you where you curse out the ref and get us ejected: not fun. Playing softball: fun. Playing softball with you when you tackle the other players: not fun…amusing...but not fun…"

Mary reached into the bag of chocolates and threw some at him as he continued to list adventures with a grin on his face. He picked up a pencil and tried to hit them back at her. Their game was interrupted by one of the aides who came in to deliver a snack Mary had ordered. The young girl noted their bantering.

"So, how long have you guys been married?" she asked.

Both Marshals froze and stared at her. Marshall recovered first as his brain kicked back into gear and he remembered the 'Mrs. Miller' comment from this morning.

"Four years." He said as it was the first thing that came into his mind.

Four years of practice at following his lead spurred Mary to add dryly, "It seems like forty." She had also figured out the motivating factors for the aide's question and was amused by the slightly skittish look on her partner's face.

When they were left alone again, Mary pounced, "So, Mr. Miller, living the dream are you?"

He rolled his eyes over to her and drawled, "Oh, I'd say it's more of a nightmare most days, Mrs. Miller."

She pouted, "You're no treat either sometimes, buddy. And anyway, everyone knows you're a glutton for punishment."

"Yeah…but I'm just biding my time here and waiting for the conjugal visits." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as he looked her up and down purposefully.

Mary choked on the sip of water she had just taken and felt her cheeks burn, "Oh my God, you are such a slut!" His raking look had done odd things to her rearranged insides and she tried to duck and cover with the accusation.

Marshall gave himself a mental high five for making her blush. "Me? I wasn't the one whipping up my gown and asking 'Do you want to touch my staples?' now, was I?"

She threw a pillow and a string of curses at him and he laughed like he hadn't in a while.

They spent the next hour or so going over the materials Marshall had brought concerning the shooting and all the possible players in the saga. Trying to group people according to motive and a time table, they added Matt and Nico to their respective spots. Marshall called Stan to see if anything had turned up on the arrested man and Nico, and he was told Matt's name was Matthias Trouba. Small time hit man who occasionally avoided a rap over the last few years. No connection to anyone else so far. The name 'Nico' was assumed to be Nico Morales. He had been in Lala's crew for about eight months and was the muscle. Interestingly, he was also one of the men who had disappeared and did not exist in the system fifteen months ago. Stan said he'd head up there in about an hour to brainstorm with them.

They needed a break to tie loose ends together. Marshall called his contact at the DOJ and upped the sports package ante into order to see if it would spur the man into digging deeper. Promised some info by tomorrow, he hung up partially satisfied.

Suddenly remembering he had brought Mary's gun, Marshall pulled it out of his bag to give to her. He had tied a little red bow on it and she chuckled as she took it reverently.

"Come to mama, baby." Mary stroked it like a long lost lover and her partner just sighed.

"You have issues."

* * *

Marshall intercepted Stan as the older man was getting off the elevator to Mary's floor telling him Mary had fallen asleep and he was just heading down to get a coffee. They traveled together and Marshall filled him in on any new ideas he and Mary had formulated this morning.

Stan added his thoughts, but wanted to go through the timeline all together and sketch out some more refined details before rattling people's cages. They headed back up to Mary's floor so Marshall could grab the files out of the room. As they stepped of the elevator, Mary's nurse came around the corner and stopped to look at them with a question on her face.

"Wait a minute…I thought you guys left for the day?"

Marshall shook his head and shrugged, "No. Why did you think we left?"

The nurse still looked perplexed as she answered, "Well, five minutes ago that other cop said he was taking over watch and you guys had left…hey!" She hadn't finished her sentence before the two men were running towards Mary's room.

*****

Mary didn't know what alerted her…a soft noise, an unfamiliar breathing pattern…but her brain screamed 'danger' a moment before the pillow slammed down on her face.

* * *

***** dun, dun, dun...what will become of our helpless heroine? Mary gets to go home...yay! Wonder if Raph actually left? *****

***** I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter...did you think it was stilted?? Let me know...love all the reviews as I really do use them to refine and for ideas! *****


	16. Knocked Her On the Floor

***** Wow!! 711 hits yesterday...*squeal* You are all so fantastic and wonderful!! Many, many thanks :D *****

***** Now, let's get this show on the road. This guy's going to have a lot of explaining to do!! The action will set some plans into motion...and new players emerge on the scene. *****

* * *

When I saw her walking down the street my heart stood still and skipped  
A beat then he knocked her on the floor but he wanted just a little bit more  
He's gonna kill that girl He's gonna kill that girl  
He's gonna kill that girl tonight

--- You're Gonna Kill That Girl, The Ramones

* * *

[_She didn't know what alerted her…a soft noise, an unfamiliar breathing pattern…but her brain screamed 'danger' a moment before the pillow slammed down on her face_.]

Mary reflexively grabbed at the hands holding the pillow over her face in an attempt to remove the smothering object. Her rational brain kicking in, she tried to twist and buck from underneath the threat, only to have pain rocket through her as her tender muscles protested. Her right hand shot out to fumble for her duffel, and she pulled it onto the bed as her left hand found purchase in the soft skin of her attacker's neck and she gouged him with her nails.

She heard a grunt as her nails gained purchase and the man shifted his weight to push the pillow harder onto her face with one hand as he groped for her wrist in order to stop her attack. Mary added weak kicks to her defense techniques, but the man remained standing on the side of the bed and she couldn't quite reach him as her abdomen again failed her. Spots began to appear before her eyes as she became air hungry, and the attacker had now seized her left wrist and squeezed bruisingly.

Finally, Mary's right hand found her Glock and her mind roared with salvation. "_I will not die again…I will not!_"

She swung at the man's head with all her might, and the solid butt of the gun connected loudly with the soft flesh of a temple. The weight on the pillow disappeared and Mary rolled as quickly as possible to remove it from her face. Her attacker was stunned, but did not release her wrist as he stumbled backward, pulling her off the bed in the process. They landed in a heap on the floor, Mary's ears ringing and her vision dim from the attempted suffocation, and the Marshal's rote training took over.

She lunged on top of him with a knee in his solar plexus to immobilize him, then hit him again in the head with the gun. He released her left arm, and she leveled the gun at his head.

"Freeze!" Her voice was joined by two others, and Mary looked up in surprise to see Marshall and Stan burst into the room. It took a moment for the purpose of their presence to register as her brain was still trying to recover from lack of oxygen. Taking deep, gasping breaths, she gazed back down at the man beneath her. He had a gash over his right eye that bled onto his face and his eyes were now closed. She didn't recognize him.

Stan had moved to cover the man and Mary lowered her weapon as she dropped her arms.

"We got him, Mare. Get out of there." Marshall urged.

Adrenaline raced through her and she was not equipped to handle it, as every muscle quivered and the roaring remained in her ears. No command to move was being obeyed by her traitorous body.

"I can't." she whispered.

"Get her, Marshall. I've got him." Stan ordered.

Marshall lifted Mary off the man and Stan immediately turned him over to cuff his hands behind his back.

She couldn't keep her feet under her and shook so hard her teeth chattered. Very concerned that she was going to pass out, she whispered urgently, "I need to lay down…now."

Marshall's gut was in a knot and his own pulse racing a thousand miles an hour as he held the trembling woman. He had thought he might lose her again as they approached her room and had nearly panicked. They had come through the door to a sight he didn't expect to see; his partner kneeling atop the downed attacker with her gun to his head. Her eyes had been wild, and she was breathing hard, looking at them as if she didn't know who they were for a moment. When she whispered that she couldn't get off the floor, he immediately holstered his own weapon to reach for her.

Marshall heeded her hasty request to lay down and scooped her up completely to step over to the bed and position her with her head on the pillow and on her side. He thought she may have passed out momentarily as her eyes fluttered shut and her limbs were limp. He sat next to her and smoothed her hair away from her face. Her temples and neck were damp with sweat, and she had a small rivulet of blood escape from her nostril. Marshall frowned as he used a corner of the blanket to dab at it.

"Mare? Are you hurt?" he stroked her back and arm in order to stimulate her to awareness.

Mary had a few moments of twilight as Marshall laid her on the bed, and she tuned back in as he asked her questions and gently ran his hand over her back and arm. She looked up at him and was nearly undone by the concern in his blue eyes, while something fluttered inside her chest as his hand ran down her back to rest on her hip.

"I think I may have overdone it." she said quietly, an attempt at humor to dilute the fear and stress in the room. She laid her arm across his thigh because she just needed to touch him.

Marshall grinned thinly at her response, but was still too concerned to find much humor in it, "Did you get hit? You have a bloody nose."

"No. He put a pillow over my face. It must be from that."

Marshall was now trying to put together the sequence of events. The attacker likely surprised her while she was sleeping and placed the pillow on her face while she was in the bed. How did she escape that? Flat on her back, she would have had no strength to overpower him.

Mary saw her partner trying to work through the mechanics and helped him out by describing the attack. He was worried about the fall out of the bed, worried about her wounds…just worried.

Stan had called security and the police, and the noise of the arrest had alerted other staff members. The charge nurse and Mary's nurse rushed into the room to ask what happened and Stan briefed the charge nurse as Mary's nurse came over to care for her patient. Marshall told her Mary had been pulled out of the bed and she was concerned Mary had suffered insult to her abdominal and back incisions.

Mary agreed to a quick and discreet assessment, and Marshall stood to allow her nurse access. Everything looked all right, but the nurse was going to call the surgeon to see if he wanted anything extra monitored. Mary reached up to her partner and asked him to help her sit up. He looked unsure, but she glared him into action and he levered her up but sat next to her with an arm around her back for support. She allowed herself to lean on him while she surveyed the scene in her room. The man who attacked her was conscious again, and sat slumped against the wall guarded by two security personnel and Stan.

"I want to go home, Marshall. There is no way I'm going to sleep a wink here tonight, and I refuse to be this vulnerable."

"There's no way your doc is going to let you go tonight, Mare…not after this. I promise to get you out tomorrow and I'm going to stay with you tonight." He squeezed her against him lightly.

She sighed in disappointment, "Fine. So long as you'll stay. I'm pretty sure I'm not up to that gymnastic routine again today."

He looked down at her with a smile of affection, "There's no way you could get rid of me."

A voice broke the moment, "Good God, girl. You can't even stay out of trouble in the hospital." Bobby D. had the unfortunately job of responding to this call.

"Hey, I got him for you. Just drag his sorry ass out of here." Mary gave her friend a crooked smile.

Bobby saw how Mary leaned on Marshall and the smear of blood under her nose, "You okay, Shannon?"

Marshall snickered, "Oh, she'll live to terrorize another day. Let's get this one wrapped up, D." He could feel Mary running out of strength and wanted to distract Dershowitz so Mary wouldn't wear herself out further by trying to hide any weakness.

Mary felt a bit bereft without Marshall as he stood to help Bobby. His warmth had been comforting and pleasant and she was thinking it would be nice to sit with him like that more often. Her nurse came back in with a plan. Mary was going to hurt something fierce soon, so the nurse gave her the pain pills plus an IV dose of morphine. The pills would kick in soon after the morphine wore off, and Mary wouldn't have to suffer through a long period of hurt.

Feeling pleasantly relaxed a few minutes later, Mary laid back down and watched the men in the room do their jobs.

Stan was so serious, taking charge of everyone and directing action. He could come off as such a goof, but when it came down to the wire he was quick and vicious with the extra bonus of clout. As a boss, she and Marshall could definitely do worse, and Mary tried not to piss him off too much most days. Bobby was nice to watch. Handsome and skilled, Mary would go for a guy like that if she didn't think she'd want to kill him most of the time. They butted heads constantly…their personalities too similar to mesh. She trusted him and respected him, though, and would work with him anytime.

And Marshall. She could read every move and stance the man had, anticipating each action and translating the reactions. He was extremely pissed right now…the set of his jaw, placing his hands on his hips frequently and the way he tilted his chin up slightly whenever he spoke to someone. Aggressive and confrontational. Mary always liked to watch him work, especially if he was working someone over…verbally or physically. She could see him turn ideas over in his head, revising and reevaluating constantly while the resulting actions seemed planned well ahead of time. He took her breath away in a fight. Fast, graceful and efficient, there was no wasted movement and he came out of the gate at a sprint. Mary used that tactic because she would get out muscled after a minute or two and had to get her licks in quickly. Marshall did it because he liked to fight. You wouldn't think it if you'd never seen it. No mistaking the feral gleam and thinly disguised excitement of hunting prey.

Mary wondered if all that energy and passion followed him to the bedroom. Was he graceful and efficient there, or did he revert to studying his partner and slowly learning about them? Maybe a combination? Maybe she should drag her mind out of the gutter and "_Oh. My. God. Was I just imagining Marshall in bed?_" She tingled inappropriately, and shifted to relieve the ache in her belly. "_Interesting."_ She took Kelly's advice and just let herself think about the feeling.

She must have missed Stan and Bobby D. leaving with the suspect while she was daydreaming, because she suddenly heard Marshall's voice as he sat back down next to her.

"Flying high, Cowgirl?" grinning at her.

"Are you done being pissed at everyone? You've been strutting around ready to take their heads off."

His eyebrows shot up, "Can't slide much by you, can I?"

"And this surprises you?" she looked at him questioningly.

Marshall pushed a piece of her hair off her cheek, "You never cease to surprise me…amaze me sometimes. You were at an extreme disadvantage today, yet you managed to come out on top. You did good, Mare."

Fading a bit now, Mary's thoughts wandered as her eyes drifted shut, "Well, I can't let my second chance go to waste. Gotta get it right this time."

It was an interesting statement, Marshall thought as he watched Mary succumb to a drug and exhaustion induced slumber. He wondered what she was trying to get right. Kissing her on the forehead and covering her with an extra blanket, Marshall snagged a security guard to sit with her while he ran down to his car for his overnight bag and laptop. Looked like he was working here for the rest of the day.

He was going to talk to Stan because it was starting to seem as though Mary would be safer somewhere other than her house when she left the hospital…his house would be logical, but not necessarily obvious. It was something to discuss with her later. Marshall was back up to the room in fifteen minutes and didn't budge for the rest of the night.

* * *

_[A beach in Cozumel. The story begins to come together]_

"I thought we may have lost you." Day poured his colleague a drink as they sat on the veranda and enjoyed the sea breeze.

"What do you mean?" the second man asked as he settled in. It had been a long flight, and he really didn't want to debrief.

"You were looking pretty comfortable, Damien. Had gotten a little too wrapped up in the make believe."

"Give me a fucking break. You pay me for that…and I'm the best you've got. I guarantee you there is not one among them who would even have a seed of doubt about me. I can't believe you're pulling me out over this, though. I could've milked the network for a while longer…got a couple more mil out of Manuel."

He could've, he knew. You can't be in that deep and not demand some loyalty. There was a lot of respect there. Though relieved he no longer had to find a way to keep the dying lie alive, it was always hard to let go of a persona you had cultivated for so long.

"Are they going to come after you? We've got to make sure it's closed down completely." Day had been nervous since the day he yanked Francesca from that hospital. The whole thing felt fragile somehow.

"No. They won't want anything to do with me…got no use for me any more."

"Dominic's not so sure. Says the Marshals are fairly tenacious about this one…it being one of their own. They're already looking in their own backyard and Mann seems to have some interesting connections. He's being fed information from a source we haven't been able to track yet and I'm starting to get just a little nervous."

"Relax, Day…Jesus. I'd worry about Dominic and Nick's covers before I'd worry about mine. I had nothing to do with the shooting…I was too far removed from that."

"You were fucking there!" Day leaned forward to emphasize the point.

"Not when it went down, though. Just for the set up." Damien took a sip of the smooth, amber liquid in his glass as he stared out at the sea, "Too bad Manuel spooked. Nick didn't have much time to warn Francesca."

"I really didn't think Shannon would take her job so seriously. Thought she'd just hole up for the night and we would go in and snatch Franny in the wee hours."

Damien just laughed softly and shook his head, "Shannon takes everything seriously. You wanted the best and you got it. It all worked out, you got Francesca out without anyone noticing with all the confusion. We just weren't able to lay the blame quite where we wanted to."

"Shannon may have seen me. Looked right at me before that punk shot her." Day was musing, "Still working on removing her from the picture completely."

"If she hasn't said anything by now she didn't see you." Damien chuckled as he finished his glass, "Good luck with removing her. The woman has more lives than a cat."

Day poured himself another glass as the men sat in comfortable silence for a while, "Manuel will be looking for you when he finds out his shit is gone"

"I deserved something for leading that prick by the nose for nine months. Left a trail so big Cruz can't miss it. Manuel will be out of your hair within a month."

"Perfect timing. I imagine we'll all be toasting 'Viva Revolution' by that time." The two men smiled and raised their glasses.

* * *

***** Well...who have we here? (Day was the agent who brought Francesca to the Marshals). The operation may be more entrenched than Mary, Marshall or Stan ever thought!*****

*****Who wants to see Mary go to Marshall's?? Oh yeah..about eight of you :D See, I use your reviews! That's 1-800-REVIEWS...call now...call often :) *****


	17. Winnin' by Bein' Free

***** She's out and about...well, out at least! For all those confused by the end of last chapter, think about it as you read this chapter. I'm sure you'll figure a few things out. Jinx is a real treat in this one! *****

* * *

See, what they don't understand is  
That I'm a keep livin' my life and survivin',  
And I'mma keep pushin', and strivin', and climbin', and grindin'.  
'Cause ain't no time to be crying;  
I been providing with the strength to carry my way (carry my way).  
And I'mma be ok (I'mma be ok), 'cause I'm gone live my life my way,  
You can say what you wanna say, it won't affect the way I'm living.  
I'm winnin' by being free again, yeah.

--- Freedom, Ashanti

* * *

Stan and Dershowitz spent four sweaty, frustrating and bruising hours with the two men who had tried to kill Mary. They had interviewed each man alone, both men together and then let the two men sit in a room looking at each other for an hour. The bruises came from breaking up the subsequent fist fight between the two as a stupid and sleep deprived Matt cracked under pressure and spilled his guts to the officers through the two way mirror. Given food, drink and a deal, the man continued to talk until he truly couldn't think of another detail.

Dershowitz was happy to have the collar, and Stan now had more names and events to try to fill in the gaps. The more information he obtained, the more wrong this whole assignment he had given Mary seemed. He made a silent and personal promise to her that he would hunt down the person responsible for this farce and serve Mary their head on a platter. Stan suspected Day was involved in very nonlegal ways, but it was going to be difficult to dig through the crap spread on top of the operation. It stunk to high heaven, and Stan had a finely tuned sense of smell. Smiling a bit, he thought about the shit storm that would ensue if CIA operations were discovered to be undertaken on U.S. soil. Those boys would have more than their hands slapped.

Stan headed back to the office and picked up some lunch for him and Eleanor. It had been quiet in the office for the last few weeks with Mary gone and Marshall absent more often than not. Luckily, the witness load was low so nothing had fallen behind. It was nice to have lunch with Eleanor, and he found himself relaxing as they talked and laughed. Their relationship was easy and mainly casual, no sense of urgency, and they just focused on enjoying each other. He filled her in on the newest information, and she had some interesting ideas to gather more data. Stan just let her run with it, as he always did…she never disappointed.

The accounting department and dispatchers had pooled resources in order to buy Mary some flowers and a plant for her hospital room. She wasn't able to have flowers in the ICU, so they had waited until now to purchase them and bring them to Stan. He promised to take them to her later in the day. Stan hoped she didn't toss them in the trash can. Putting his files together and making some notes, he picked up the phone to call and update Marshall.

"Marshall." The word was spoken quietly.

"It's Stan. Any chance I can get you to peel your sorry ass out of that chair to come down here for an hour or so? I'll send Robertson over to sit with her." Stan really wanted to put all the info on the white boards.

"Nope." Was the simple and succinct answer. Stan figured as much, but it was worth a shot.

"How's she doing? I couldn't believe she managed to take the hump down."

"Survival instinct is pretty strong. I watched a show on Animal Planet once where a baby gazelle managed to fight off a hyena. Panicked and kicked the hell out of it. Damned impressive."

Stan chuckled, "I've seen her in action when she wasn't panicked…can't imagine how that would look when she's lost her mind."

Both men shuddered with the thought in their respective locales.

"Well, her surgeon ordered a CT scan post fall and she went down for that about two hours ago. I think that was the final straw, because she's been sound asleep since she got back." Marshall looked over at a sleeping Mary, smiling slightly at his rumpled partner.

"Do you want the latest over the phone, then?" Stan asked, "I'll come up around dinner time, but thought you'd like to get a head start."

"Hit me up." Marshall was opening a new document on his laptop to take notes.

Stan started with the facts, "The second hit man is Fred During. There're warrants for grand theft and assault in Mississippi. Don't know what brought him to our fair city, but apparently he's ventured into assassination."

Marshall snorted as he typed, "I'm sure it pays better…if you don't get caught. Go on."

"He hooked up with Matthias here in town. They hung with some of the guys from Lala's crew occasionally, and last week Nico Morales approached them with a large sum of money and this job. They were told they'd get the details, name and room number from another contact the day the hit was to go down. Enterprising fellows that they are, they signed right up."

Marshall stopped typing as he shuffled thoughts, "They were here within hours of Mary's move out of the ICU. Who the hell knew about her transfer that could get that info to them so quickly?"

Stan shrugged to himself, "The hospital's on an electronic system. It would not be too difficult to pull her records if you had a few people inside that could work it. Information at our fingertips."

Marshall looked over at the computer mounted on the wall and realized that although access would require passwords, all it took was one unattended kiosk to allow reams of data to be downloaded. The electronic marvels that he found so fascinating had their dark side. He voiced a thought to Stan.

"So, Matt and Fred must've split up themselves or were split up, and Matt hadn't gotten the update on Mary's location yet. But, by mid morning, that info had also been acquired and given to Fred. I really thought we'd get a few more days with the false discharge and admission under a new name." He sighed, "There's really no point in moving her again. One; there's probably not a danger for the time being as this first shot at her missed twice, and two; the information's being leaked and we'd never track that in time."

Stan agreed and added, "We need to get her out of that hospital. I just don't want to make the assumption there won't be another attempt. Until we know why she's being targeted we'll have to watch all the angles."

"I was thinking that earlier. She's supposed to be released tomorrow anyway. I'm considering putting her at my house…quietly, of course. I don't think it would be obvious, and it's certainly safer than her house."

"Not a bad idea, but what about just getting her holed up at one of the safe houses?" Stan could get one approved for this purpose without difficulty.

"Because," Marshall drawled, "Matt said somebody smells like a cop. If there's someone on the inside, and I suspect our missing agency friends, the safe house location will be flagged when it becomes active in the system. My house isn't on that grid."

Stan had to agree. The safest place for Mary was right next to Marshall. Chuckling, he teased his Inspector, "You're getting in over your head. Playing nursemaid to Mary could possibly be more dangerous than giving a porcupine a back massage."

Marshall laughed back, "I'd say her bark is worse than her bite…but she bites hard." He remembered her warning bite to his neck once when they were forced to stage a compromising position during an operation. He was threatening to tickle her, but changed his mind after that. "I'll run the idea past her later. Given the choice to return home to Jinx and Brandi or relax at my abode, I'm guessing she'll choose the later."

"What about Raphael? I think he may object." Stan didn't want to see **that** confrontation.

Marshall pitched his voice lower, glancing sideways at Mary to make sure she was still asleep, "Raph's gone, or will soon be gone. Broke the engagement and is moving home to mama. Yet another reason to keep her away from that house."

"Shit. Kid needs a break."

"Yep." Marshall was hoping to give her one while she recovered at his place. Let her rest and just be for a while. He was actually looking forward to having her there, being able to watch out for her and take care of her. She took on too much and he always wished she share more of the burden with him, but knew it was hard for her to do. Small steps.

"So, besides already knowing Fred and Matt got their final info from the 'white guy who might be a cop', what else do we now know?" Marshall got back to the task at hand.

"They both mentioned Lala had the crew running drugs for a supplier named Manuel. Apparently, there's a middle manager between Lala and Manuel, but his name isn't known to these two idiots. I'm sure Lala's direct contact is this man if Manuel is the main supplier. You know how the food chain works in those organizations…nobody talks directly to the supplier."

Marshall grunted agreement, then asked, "Isn't Lala MIA? And Nico too? Stan, there is something beyond hinky about this whole thing. Too many missing persons that are missing too well. Unless you're at one of our WITSEC class reunions, everybody should have an identity back to childhood." He pulled up a couple of other files and reviewed, "It seems impossible that a crew chief and one of his main enforcers would have no rap sheet, no indictments, no fingerprints on file and be able to disappear like the wind right after they were questioned regarding the shooting of a federal officer."

"God, I love the smell of a cover up in the morning." Stan mimicked a movie quote, "Let's add the notable absence of two CIA agents and their Revolutionary, stir it up and see what we get."

"A poke in the eye with sharp stick." Marshall answered dryly. "Well, it has been semi-amusing to watch Homeland Security pop an aneurysm. They're sure the CIA is operating on the home turf this time. It's making them crazy that they can't prove it." Marshall's eyebrows shot up as he opened an email from his contact at the DOJ in Phoenix. Running it through his encryption program, the tall man smiled in triumph.

"Oh, Stan. Guess what I have?"

"A winning lottery ticket so we can all retire to Fiji?"

"Better…I have Nico Morales' real name." Marshall heard Stan take his feet down off the desk back at the office. His boss eagerly asked for him to continue.

Marshall was typing as he spoke, "Nicholas Thompson, aka Nico Morales, aka Nicky Passafume…and a few dozen more. Ex-CIA, terminated from the Agency four years ago with sealed records. Spotty info since then, but he's been known to independently contract to the Columbians."

Stan was adding the info to the white boards, "Well, that puts his turf pretty close to Francesca and Day, doesn't it? What the hell was he doing in Albuquerque?"

"…in Albuquerque nine months before this went down." Marshall was reading more of the file and becoming more unhappy, "Jesus, Stan, if he and Lala were placed here that long ago, this whole thing is bigger than a poorly planned, last minute coop. I have a feeling we're chipping away at an iceberg that's going to roll us under when it falls apart."

"Marshall, we need to put this all up and comb over it like we're removing nits."

Marshall was getting jumpy as the facts and figures painted a dangerous and unpredictable picture. He made a decision, "Stan, I'm getting her out of here tonight and taking her to my place. Can you go over there now and get us a command center set up? We'll keep what we have under wraps, and Mary will be more than thrilled to have the information at her fingertips while she's still down and out."

The men agreed on the details and Marshall hung up with a sick feeling in his gut. Mary was not safe.

* * *

She awoke to a shadowy room as the shades were drawn to keep out the afternoon light. A quiet clicking could be heard, and Mary moved her head to see Marshall hunched over his laptop typing like a fiend. He was focused intently on the screen, and stopped typing to just stare at it.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you you'd go blind if you looked at that stuff too long?" Mary's quiet voice broke the silence of the room.

He chuckled as he finished off his paragraph, "But 'Debbie Does the DOJ' is a classic…I laughed, I cried, I had to change my pants."

Mary laughed, then wished she hadn't. "Oh, shit" she groaned as she rolled onto her back.

Marshall looked over at her with raised eyebrows, "Sore?"

"Like I've been beaten with a baseball bat. My hair and my feet are the only parts that don't hurt." She was searching the blankets for the call light, "I'm going to score some pain medicine."

"When the nurse comes in, ask her to call your doc. Stan and I are pulling you out tonight." Marshall saw her puzzled look, "New information leads us to believe your position is a bit more dire than we thought."

"And you were going to discuss this with me when?" Mary didn't like decisions being made for her, "Personally, I'd rather take my chances here than go home and have to deal with the aftermath there. I don't even know if Raph is gone…and my mom is hitting the bottle again."

Marshall hadn't known that. He sighed, "Well that's just perfect. Nice of her to think about you and what you'll need when you get home."

Mary ran her hands through her hair as she tried to tame the tangles, "God forbid anything should pull attention away from Jinx."

"Fucking parasites." Marshall mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What did you say?" Mary had seen the word on his lips and knew it was backed by feeling. Marshall rarely used it.

He looked at her with a peevish expression, "I said they were fucking parasites. All three of them…and you're the host." Back to typing, he finished his thought, "You bleed and bleed and all they do is gather around to suck you dry."

Mary knew Marshall didn't have much use for her family, or Raph, especially after the Spanky episode, but she had no idea he felt that strongly. Slightly irritated by the unconscious need to protect her family, she was tempered by his concern.

"They're my family. Sometimes you just take what you can get…and I promised to look after them." She shrugged and picked at the blanket.

He felt bad for the harsh words, true as they may be. She was nothing if not fiercely loyal to those she cared for and he had experienced that directly on numerous occasions. He should respect it, even if the recipients were ungrateful.

"I'm sorry, Mare. They just get to me sometimes when they take you for granted." Closing his laptop, Marshall turned to her and tensed even though smiling, "So…what if I told you I could whisk you away to a place that was quiet, clean and you had your own bathroom?"

"I'd hope it came with a cabana boy named Jose?" Mary wasn't sure where he was going, but was suspicious.

"I guess you could call me Jose…I've been called worse." Watching his partner, Marshall saw the moment she figured it out.

"Oh, hell no…you are not going to put me up at your place." protesting because she didn't want him to have to take care of her, "I'm going to be bitchy and demanding and make your life hell."

He narrowed his eyes, "And that would be different than any other day, how?"

Mary tried to throw the remote at him and aborted the attempt with a wince and a grunt. "You're so going to pay for that when I can hunt you down like a dog."

"Woof, woof." winking at her as he sat safely out of reach, "Let's get you some happy drugs, get your prescriptions and discharge instructions and head for home."

"I didn't agree to going to your house, Marshall."

He gave her a flat, unblinking stare that had never failed him and she raised one eyebrow in disdain.

"Not going to work, Yoda."

"C'mon, Mare. You know it's a better option than your house. For your sanity, your family's sanity and for your safety. I don't fit on your couch well, so consider my comfort also."

Mary realized Marshall was planning on camping at her house if she went home, and the gravity of the situation became clear. Deciding to place stubbornness on the back burner for the time being, she sighed deeply. Marshall smiled.

"Can I at least stop by my place to see Jinx and Brandi and grab my things? Your shampoo smells like testosterone."

Laughing, Marshall agreed to the pitstop.

Mary's call light was finally attended to and her nurse gave her a combination of IV and oral pain meds so Mary could actually move. It was a rough trip to the restroom and she swore enough to make the nurse roll her eyes. Insisting on sitting in the chair instead of going back to bed, Mary snacked on some fruit while Marshall filled her in on the case with all the facts gathered so far. Surprised by the lurking complexities of the case, she was looking forward to seeing all the pieces of the puzzle laid out. There had to be a way to tie the seemingly incoherent story together. Some Rosetta stone of conspiracy that would make everything clear.

Dr. Stroop showed up as her dinner arrived to voice his displeasure at her request to leave the hospital, but since her CT scan was clear and she had no signs or symptoms of infection, he had no clinical reason to keep her. Again instructing her on all the do's and don'ts, he made sure Marshall also understood her limitations. Handing over her prescriptions, the doctor wished her well and said he'd see her in two weeks in his office.

Stan wandered in around six p.m., Mary's nurse removed her IV and made sure Mary understood all her discharge instructions and meds, and the three people were packed up waiting for the transporter by six thirty. Mary was a little nervous. She didn't feel frail, but was certainly weak and unsteady and hoped she would not be a burden to her partner. Having the medical staff close by made her feel monitored and she worried about something going wrong in her gut and not knowing what to do. Not one to ask for help, even when going down with the ship, Mary knew she was going to butt heads with her partner over the next few days. He tended to hover.

The fresh air outside was intoxicating, and Mary closed her eyes as she breathed deeply. A mixture of smells from the river valley and desert, Albuquerque evenings reminded her of solitude and starlight, and her mind was able to settle somewhat from its restless musings. Stan and Marshall helped her into the SUV and Mary buckled in, ready to recover.

Her eagerness was replaced by tightly controlled breathing and a sweaty brow fifteen minutes later as they pulled up to her house. Talkative for the first part of the trip, Mary became more and more quiet as they approached her street. Marshall watched her with concern. She was either upset about the visit, or she was hurting…or both. He parked the car in the driveway and turned to her.

"You gonna make it?" She had her eyes closed.

"Sitting up this straight…" a breath, "is really tough." A couple of breaths, "I can't brace myself for the turns and stops."

"Jesus, Mare. Why didn't you say something? I would've stopped and reclined your seat."

"Gotta build up my stamina."

"Not tonight. Give it a few days, woman."

And she was off and running, he thought with a shake of his head. He knew she'd want to jump right back in and was going to have to make an extra effort to rein her in. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Getting out, he came around her side and stood next to her while she sat in the seat. "Can you walk in, or should I carry you?" He already knew the answer, but had to ask.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed him out of the way and oozed out of the vehicle with his assistance. Using a monumental effort of will topped of with a patina of pride, Mary allowed Marshall to hold her around the waist as she walked into her own home. The couch sang a siren song, and she laid her head back against the pillows with a sigh and moan.

Brandi was excited to see her and rushed over to gently hug her and talk about everything going on. Marshall moved through the house with ease, gathering everything she asked for, and Jinx was out by the pool and refused to come in. Mary tried not to care.

"When did Raph leave, Squish?"

"Early this morning." Brandi was tracing a cloud design on Mary's sweatpants near her knee, "He never said another word to us after the big blowup last night. I tried to talk to him, but he just ignored me."

Mary was so angry at Raph for making this hard on Brandi. She knew they had become good friends, and Raph's actions were mean and hurtful…she couldn't believe he acted like such a child over a perceived snub.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry he hurt you and that it didn't work out." Mary tried to comfort her sister.

Brandi shrugged, "It's not your fault…well, I guess it's both your faults a little bit, but you didn't make him act like a jackass." Hesitating, then continuing, "Mom's still mad at you though. She's mad at me too, so don't feel bad."

"Why is she mad at you?" Mary couldn't logic through that one.

"She's drunk and I got pissed and threw away all the alcohol and hid her keys." Brandi smiled guiltily then leaned over to whisper to Mary, "Except the whiskey in your secret drawer…that's still there."

Mary was impressed. Impressed that Brandi had the forethought to take the appropriate actions, and impressed she knew where her secret stash was. "You did good, Squish."

Brandi preened a bit under her sister's praise, then really started to notice what Marshall was doing as he took things out to the car.

"Wait a minute, you're not staying?" eyeing Mary quizzically.

"No. It's safer for me to go elsewhere right now. We still have some issues that are unresolved in the case." trying to be vague.

"Where are you going?"

Mary drew a blank. Not wanted to tell Brandi she was going to Marshall's for security reasons, she grasped at straws for a moment until Marshall rescued her.

"She's going to a safehouse that the Albuquerque PD set up for her. Stan and I are going to stay with her. It's just temporary until all the suspects in the case are accounted for. A week or so." Brandi was satisfied with the answer.

"What are you doing in this house? How dare you come in here after what you did?" a strained voice from the back doorway, the three people in the living room turned to see Jinx standing and pointing a finger at Marshall.

"Hi Mom. So good to see you. Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." Mary replied sarcastically, ignoring Jinx's accusations. Marshall rolled his eyes and headed back to the bathroom.

Jinx moved to stand at the counter and glared at Marshall's back. Looking then at Mary, she hissed, "I have nothing to say to you. Brandi, you go to your room and get away from her."

Brandi just huffed at her mother, "God, Mom, get a grip. Chico's gone and Mary and Marshall weren't the reason. And don't tell me what to do."

Mary had rarely seen Brandi stand up to their mother and watched with interest. Jinx was now pacing, and Mary braced herself for the full dramatic experience.

"Don't you dare take her side, Brandi! She was wrong and evil and mean and she knows it. Always looking out for herself and never caring if anyone gets hurt. Just like her father!"

"Mom!" Brandi exclaimed as Mary also jumped into the diatribe.

"I think those characteristics apply more accurately to you, Mom." "_Wow," _Mary thought,_ "these pain meds are good for a little courage._"

Jinx flew around to stand at the end of the couch and pointed a finger at Mary now, "You don't talk to me like that, young lady. I raised you all by myself and you have no right to say I didn't take care of you"

Mary rolled her eyes, "Only when it fit into the drinking schedule. And speaking of that…when were you going to tell me you fell off the wagon?"

"It's all your fault I'm drinking again, Mary!" Again the projecting that Mary was so used to.

"Yeah…I'm to blame for terrorism and global warming too." Brandi quietly snickered next to her and they shared a glance of unity.

Their mother moved to stand in front of them as they sat on the couch, and Mary was reminded of many days in the principal's office.

"You never were any good at keeping a man, Mary." Jinx was mad and lashing out. Mary's grin faded at her mother's words and she glared at her, "They never stayed around for very long after they got to know you, did they. Your marriage only lasted a month. Every wonder why? Ever stop to think you're just not a nice person?"

Brandi slid her hand into Mary's to try to lend her sister some comfort. Mary's eyes were hard now.

"Mark beat the shit out me and I left and you know that. Quit trying to suck me into an argument because you're pissed at the world, Mom." Her voice was low and quiet, attesting to her anger.

"I'm not pissed at the world, Mary…only you. You and your holier than thou attitude. You seem to think you can make my life better. Well, you know what?" Jinx leaned down and Mary could still smell alcohol on her face, "My life would be better if you had never been born."

Mary actually flinched at the words and the viciousness at which they were delivered. Hurt warred with anger which fought with pain and Mary lashed out.

"Fuck you."

The resulting slap was almost worth it. It knocked some of the hurt out of Jinx's words and reminded Mary that the woman was drunk and angry with a little crazy mixed in. She closed her eyes against tears and just sat quietly as commotion occurred around her.

Brandi had jumped off the couch to grab her mom after the woman slapped Mary. Jinx was sputtering and muttering while Brandi started to cry. Marshall had witnessed the entire exchange from the edge of the hallway into the room, and it only took a few quick steps to take him into the fray. He and Brandi gently maneuvered Jinx into her room, and he left Brandi with her mom to go back out to Mary.

His partner was sitting still on the couch with her eyes closed and a red handprint on her cheek. Marshall frowned as he approached her, asking softly, "Mare, are you ready to go?"

Mary nodded silently and opened her eyes to look at him. She looked so tired and sad that he just wanted to make the last few minutes disappear. Her mother's words, whether said in drunken anger or not, cut to the bone. No child wants to hear they were a regret.

Marshall hooked her bag over his shoulder and reached down to help her up. They walked slowly out the door and he steadied her as he threw her bag in back before turning to help her into the passenger seat which he had reclined. Mary hesitated, then turned into him and rested her forehead against his chest. Marshall gently grasped her upper arms.

"Would your life be better if I wasn't in it?" she asked softly.

He hurt for her. For every rejection and abandonment she had experienced, and his arms slowly slid around her to hold her close. She didn't return the embrace, just stood there with her arms at her sides…empty.

"I wouldn't want to imagine my life without you in it." Murmured into her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

Mary allowed herself to lean into him and found her arms to wrap around his waist. They listened to crickets for a few minutes before Mary felt her legs tremble.

"Take me home, Marshall." knowing she was halfway there.

***** Going to Marshall's house...whee! Poor Mary...Jinx is a piece of work. Please let me know if you enjoyed :) I so enjoy the REVIEWS!! *****


	18. I Try to Walk Away

***** To Marshall's to regroup, plan and have a heart to heart. Where did Marshall go on that night?? *****

* * *

I try to say goodbye and I choke  
I try to walk away and I stumble  
Though I try to hide it it's clear  
My world crumbles when you are not near

--- I Try, Macy Gray

* * *

She was quiet on the way home, eyes closed, but Marshall knew she wasn't asleep. An occasional wince or faint grunt with some turns or a bump, he knew the car ride and the visit to her house were probably more activity that she should've had. After the scene in her living room, Marshall was sure he had made the right decision to take her to his house. Combined with the altercation earlier in day, Marshall figured she'd be running on empty when they got to his house and planned to insist she park her shapely little ass on either the bed or the couch for the rest of the evening.

She wasn't going to want to talk about the antagonistic exchange with her mother, he knew, but could tell she was rolling it around in her head and probably twisting herself up in knots about it. Girls and their mothers and boys and their fathers…the ongoing struggle for independence and separation of self presented a lifetime of opportunity to hurt each other. Marshall could recall some arguments with his father that would've burned the hair off anyone close enough to hear them. Fights too…which he invariably lost. He grinned to himself as he thought he may possibly have a chance taking his old man at this point. His dad had a bum knee and Marshall had learned a few tricks in the last twenty years. A visit to the parental units was in order sometime soon, he thought, it had been about six months since he'd been home.

Stan's car was in the driveway when he pulled in, and Mary opened her eyes as he turned off the ignition.

"Stan's here?"

"I asked him to pick up your prescriptions, and he was setting up some story boards for us here earlier today. There's some information I've gotten through slightly non traditional channels…not things I'd want anyone to see."

"Are you promising sexual favors to that poor woman again?" she grinned in his direction.

Marshall knew she was referring to his inside source in Phoenix, "No, no…remember? I'm the **electronics** gigolo. A sexy, full HD sports package off the wire this time. I've got the prongs and she's got the plug…it's a beautiful thing."

"That's so disturbing."

He was laughing as he came around the truck to her side. Opening her door, Marshall noted she made no attempt to sit up and get out, instead rubbing her face with one hand while the other rested on the seat arm. Exhausted.

"So, this is going to work one of two ways. You let me carry you to the door from here," Mary slanted a narrowed gaze his way, "or you fall down half way to the door and I carry you from there."

"Or I can suck it up and walk the whole way." Mary did not want to be carried.

"And I could go buy a lottery ticket and win the mega millions. The odds of either happening are about the same." He knew this was going to be a battle. "Listen, Mare, I don't want you to injure yourself. If you stumble and fall, even if you don't hit the ground, you're going to twist and pull at your wounds. You're exhausted. I will put you down before we go in so Stan will never know."

Mary eyed the door to Marshall's house. It sat back from the road a ways, so his front walk meandered around some landscaping before meeting the porch. Knowing it would be a Herculean effort to just get out of the car at this point, she had to admit the walk was beyond her physical capabilities tonight. It was appalling to her that the ride in the SUV wore her out.

"God, this blows," she hissed, reaching out an arm as permission.

Careful to avoid putting pressure on her back wound, Marshall lifted her out of the seat and headed up the walk. His first thought was that she had lost too much weight, estimating about fifteen pounds, and decided to cook some high carb meals for her this week. Secondly, she felt really good in his arms. Her arms around his neck, she had rested her head on his shoulder and he could feel her hip and breast pressed against his torso. It was distracting in all the wrong ways, but yet he mourned the loss of contact when he set her down on the porch. Giving her a moment to get her balance, he opened the door when she gave him the all okay.

Stan had managed to set up some flipcharts in the dining room and had a few pictures taped to them with words and diagrams strategically located. There was a computer on the dining room table with a multipurpose printer/fax nearby. A few boxes of file folders were scattered on the ground, and Stan was in the process of watering a few plants on the counter when his Inspectors came through the front door.

Mary looked like she was going to fall over, he thought. Pale, and breathing in short pants, she tilted her chin at him in greeting but was focused on stepping over to the couch with Marshall's help. He could tell Marshall was doing most of the work.

"You could've carried her, Marshall. She doesn't look too good," the older man was a bit accusatory.

Mary rallied to Marshall's defense, "He tried but I nixed the idea."

Shaking his head, Stan brought her a glass of water as Marshall went in search of more pillows and a blanket.

"How're you doing, Mary? You **do** look like hell, you know."

"Gosh, you really know how to make a girl feel good, Stan," repositioning herself carefully on the couch, she finally was able to lie back and sighed, "I feel about as good as you say I look. Crappy."

It was hard to see her like this and Stan felt useless, "Is there something I can do?"

"Just don't treat me like an invalid. I'd hate to have to beat the crap out of you when I get my strength back." Mary smiled at him, silently thanking him for his concern.

He grinned in return, knowing full well she expected no special treatment from him, "Gotcha."

The rest of the evening was spent hunting shadows and chasing ghosts as the three Marshals tried to make sense of the obviously complicated scenario laid out before them. Mary looked through the mug shots of Lala's crew, but saw no one of significance other than Mario and Lala himself. Marshall wondered aloud about the punk in the red car who had driven by slowly while he, Mary and Francesca stood in front of the house. Mary couldn't say whether she had seen him or not at the time of the shooting and they decided it wasn't relevant.

Mary was sucked into her own thoughts again as the event played through her mind, and she couldn't shake the feeling that Francesca's behavior was odd. The personal questions, encouragement to drink and then the reluctance to alert the cops to the deteriorating situation. It was almost as though a plan was in place and the woman knew something was going to happen that night.

"Who does Day work for?" Mary suddenly asked from the couch.

"Employed by the CIA, but working with the joint State Department effort right now." Stan wondered why she asked.

"Who else from the State Department contacted you about this before Francesca arrived?" there were thoughts rambling around and Mary tried to corral them.

Stan shrugged, "No one. Day heads up his division, so he would've been our contact for this anyway. Ran it through headquarters and they gave us the thumbs up after verifying the Latin American operation." Now the man was thinking he should've investigated this further.

Marshall caught up to his partner's train of thought, "Are you thinking Day and his partner…um, Goldman,…may have been running a little operation on the side that they were flying under the State Department's radar?"

Mary raised her eyebrows, "It seems odd to me that the CIA was asking us where Day and Goldman had gone with Francesca. They seemed surprised she was even in the States, much less involved in some elaborate plan to topple her government."

Stan was flipping through a file, "The only communication I received about this was from Day, or from his secretary. And what I have is all about our part of the plan…no background or other players are listed or discussed."

"We need to know more about what's going on in Francesca's country. Dammit, we're going to have to play nice with the Agency." Mary hated the thought of cooperation with the CIA. The Marshals were often looked at as the red headed step children of the DOJ and a subtle power play always lay like a pall over any joint operations.

"We're going to have to have something they want, though. I don't want to have to fight with them for scraps." Marshall was combing through his emails from Phoenix as he began to look for any valuable tidbits of info.

Her partner's words, 'don't want to have to fight', funneled her thoughts back to that warm night in the yard.

"_I don't want to fight you" Mary held one hand out to ward off Mario with the other behind her back gripping her gun._

_A glint of metal behind him and to the left._

"_Gun!" she shouted as she drew her weapon, knowing she wasn't fast enough._

_Francesca moving onto the porch and Mary looking at her intending to tell her to get down as her gun came around to fire. Distracted for that split second as she saw…_

"No…that can't be right. I can't be remembering that right," mumbling to herself on the couch.

"What, Mare?" Marshall looked up at her. Seeing the look of disbelief and concentration on her face, he stopped typing to watch her.

She was talking to herself more than to the two men, "Francesca stepped out onto the porch and that caught my attention. I looked out of reflex as I wasn't targeting anything but a shadow anyway. There was someone else in the doorway…just watching. You know, I never even heard the shot. Just fired as it hit me…jerked." She continued to just stare off into the distance.

Marshall softly prompted her, "Who did you see?

She looked at him with a question in her eyes, "It doesn't make sense, Marshall. It was Day."

The three just looked at each other for a few moments. No one wanting to voice their thoughts.

"Mary, that is why they want you dead. That's the motivation." Stan snapped his fingers as he growled out the statement.

Mary was pissed, "It was a fucking set up. Francesca knew something was going down and that's why she didn't want me to call the cops. That crazy bitch!"

"Her prints were on that gun because she gave it to the shooter," Marshall's expression was hard, "I had her in my hands, dammit!"

Stan was rubbing his head as he paced, "Wait, wait, wait. Something went wrong. Day was furious at the hospital and kept saying you had screwed up the operation. It wasn't supposed to go down like that."

Mary was still trying to grasp the concept that she had been played by Francesca, "Are you saying they didn't mean to kill me?"

"No. I mean, yes, they were likely going to kill you, but something else was supposed to happen first. You forced their hand too soon and they had to scramble to cover their tracks."

"I want that house gone over with a fine tooth comb, Stan." Marshall was up and moving towards his office while talking, raising his voice so the people in the other room could hear him, "I'm calling a friend of mine in IT. He's got some excellent detection equipment that we can use."

"What are you thinking, Marshall?" Mary called.

Her partner emerged with a business card, "She was setting you up, Mary, like you said. What better way to push suspicion off yourself than to put it onto a crooked cop?" He saw Mary and Stan look at him, then at each other in confusion.

He slowly led them on, "She wanted to get you drunk, asking you personal questions, didn't want you to call the cops and just stay in the house…the house was bugged. Anything you said would be recorded, and later when whatever they planned to do happened, your words would be manipulated and spliced and an incriminating tape would magically appear…with all fingers pointing at you."

"Son of a bitch," Mary whispered.

Stan just sat in a chair and looked mad, "What the hell were they planning? Why did they have to get out of Dodge so fast?"

"That," Marshall pointed at him, "is what the CIA will fall all over themselves helping us to find out when we offer them this. Nobody hates a dirty agent more than the Agency."

It took about forty five minutes for Marshall to arrange for his friend to meet Stan at the safe house in the barrio. The Marshals debated amongst themselves as to whether they should include Dershowitz, and Mary had the final vote. He came when she called, she explained, and they could do no less than pay it forward. She explained the situation to him briefly over the phone and he was wary, but would meet Stan for the search. Of course, he told Mary he couldn't condone an official search of the house if they didn't have a search warrant. She reminded him that they weren't asking his permission, just giving him a courtesy call. He fussed a bit, but in the end looked the other way.

The house was quiet after Stan left and Mary dozed on the couch with an episode of Dirty Jobs. She was secretly rooting for the ostriches being wrangled as she knew what it was like to have the wool literally pulled over your eyes.

Marshall finally finished making notes and came over to join her on the couch. Sitting on the opposite end, he set her feet in his lap and rubbed her ankles. Smiling as he heard her sigh, he was relieved she hadn't protested.

"Who did you go out with?" she asked with her eyes closed.

Marshall was lost, "What?"

"The night I got shot. You said you had a date and I was just wondering who you went out with and if you had fun."

His fingers stopped moving and Mary opened her eyes to look at him. He was focused on her feet and looked slightly pained. She hadn't meant to upset him and wondered why he had reacted like that.

"Marshall?"

"I didn't have a date."

There was silence as she stared at him, gears turning but not producing an explanation, "Then why…?"

"Why did I say I did?" he finished for her.

Marshall was hoping this wasn't going to come up. So much had changed since that night and he was no longer the hurt and angry man that left her standing unprotected in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city. He felt the weight of her gaze as she waited for him to answer. There was no spin to be put on it.

"I was angry."

It was not the answer Mary expected and her breath caught as a curl of anxiety unfolded in her gut.

"At me," a statement not a question.

He couldn't look at her. Didn't want to see the expressions on her face or the hurt in her eyes.

"And at myself. Been brewing it for a couple of weeks and knew I couldn't act like everything was okay for a whole evening." Marshall swallowed as emotions teetered, "I just needed to be away from you."

More heartbeats of silence and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Not able to define the look on her face, but knowing there was pain etched into some parts, he braced himself for the onslaught.

"Jesus, Marshall, I didn't know," her voice was soft and tenuous, "I wasn't paying attention."

The weeks before the shooting were playing through her mind and she was appalled by her callousness and pure thoughtlessness towards the man holding her feet. She realized she had shut him out, stomped him down and basically let him know he was low on her priority list…dismissing him. He was not like her, all hellfire and destruction when pissed off and angry. He did a slow burn and analyzed every detail over and over until it boiled to the surface and he shut you out. Retreating to his own comforts and needs until the hurt had faded away. Her partner and best friend, and she had not seen the signs of his pain.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered.

He looked at her in surprise, "What? I'm the one who left you there…wasn't there when you needed me."

Mary was slowly shaking her head, "No,** I** wasn't there when you needed **me**. I was wrapped in my own personal drama and sucked you in only to let you get pummeled in the process. It was selfish."

"I should've said something. Should've told you what was going on in my head."

"You did," Mary sat up to lean closer to him, "You told me the day you found out about my engagement, the day you found out I told Raph about WITSEC and many days after that. I just wasn't listening."

He grimaced, "I shouldn't have left you there."

"No," Mary's voice was rough, "you should've left me long before that."

That brought Marshall's head around and he looked at her in disbelief, "Don't say that. That's not going to happen."

"I don't want to hurt you anymore, Marshall. I've done it for too long, but I don't think I can change who I am."

She was fighting back tears and he could see what she was doing...giving him an out. She may as well have ripped out her heart and held it out to him on her hand for the obvious pain it was causing her.

"I'm here because I know who you are, and I wouldn't want you to change. I know better than to zig when I should zag, and I need not to blame you when that happens." He grinned and pointed a finger at her, "No, no, no, Mary Shannon. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Her sigh of relief was audible and she didn't realize she had been holding her breath, "You really are an idiot, you know." Her smile warmed him as she leaned back into the pillows.

Marshall settled back and resumed her foot rub with a smile, "Yes, but I'm **your **idiot."

They were both asleep a half hour later.

***** ah, intrigue and hearts on the sleeve. A full and fruitful evening. I wonder what they're going to find at the house ?? Please keep reading and pushing the button!! *****


	19. No One Knows

***** This chapter starts with characters outside of Albuquerque. Don't be confused...hang in there and Mary and Marshall jump in mid chapter. It's a wild ride, folks...what fun! :) *****

* * *

We get some rules to follow  
That and this  
These and those  
No one knows

--- No One Know, Queens of the Stone Age

* * *

"Christ, Day, either take a chill pill or go get laid. Otherwise I'm going to shoot you." Damien was sitting facing the back of the chair with his arms crossed and resting on the chair back. His relaxed posture belied the tension in his eyes as he watched the CIA agent pace past the table.

"The feeling's mutual," the third man in the room had his feet up on the coffee table, "You called us here and we've been sitting on our asses for a half hour now. I have things to do, Jack."

"You've got nothing to do except what I tell you to do, Dominic." Jack Day ceased his pacing to glare at his operative, ignoring the defiant set of Dominic's jaw at the statement.

Day reached over the table to hand each man a file he had been holding while trying to organize scattered thoughts, "We've got problems. On both fronts…with the added complication of losing track of our players."

The two men silently looked through the files and Damien's expression went from annoyed to concerned to pissed, "What the fuck, Day. How did this happen? Manuel was supposed to be sniffing around Jersey, not Albuquerque. That connection was closed down tight."

Day crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at Damien, knowing the next words out of his mouth would light some fuses, "You took too much, Damien. The hit has a high price. High enough to sway those on the inside."

Dominic and Damien shared a glance, then Dominic quietly asked, "Where the hell is Nico?"

"Nick dropped off the grid about three days ago. Nothing. Coincidentally, Manuel sent some dogs to New Mexico about two days ago. Looking for you," Day pointed at Dominic, "and asking about you," swinging his finger over to Damien.

The problem with being a rogue agent or independent contractor was that your business partners played to the highest dollar most of the time. Betrayal was common, just a matter of time and opportunity. The only thing to do in that situation was damage control followed by a swift retreat.

Day continued as the two men considered their own fates, "I already let Cruz know and he's sent observers to follow the trail back to Manuel if he can. Hopefully that will facilitate a little brotherly love and we can pin down this family reunion." He tossed his file back onto the table, "Francesca is back in her hometown, and Cruz is making nice and apologizing for his brother's rude behavior. She's still clueless. Still thinks Cruz and Manuel are one big happy family and working side by side with the CIA to bring down El Presidente."

Damien was shaking his head, "Albuquerque's not a big town, Day. This much activity is going to draw attention to somebody…us…Cruz, it doesn't matter. The Agency is still tracking leads, the Marshals will be right on their heels and the locals need to close the books on this."

"We needed eight more hours…eight fucking hours," Dominic got up to stare out the window and he watched the surfers out in the bay, "There's got to be way to lay this on her. We didn't get the tapes, but there must be something…"

"We need to open the Jersey connection." Day surmised out loud, "It'll toss a bone into that dog arena and attract the FBI. They still have their balls twisted up about that and I'm sure Shannon is high on their list of people to smear. Connect her through this and they'll throw a fucking party."

"Great idea, asshole," Damien sneered at Day, "That opens me up. I've been a ghost until now…just a name and a bank account with no physical connection to either place."

"You said you got out clean. No one would be looking at you." Day reminded him.

The three men were interrupted by a young woman bringing a slip of paper into the room. Conversation ceased as she handed it to Day and they waited until she left. Day's face turned into a mask of anger and frustration as he read the note.

"What?" asked Dominic.

"Un-fucking-believable." Exclaimed Day as he resumed the earlier pacing, "Nick's been made. Info pulled from his encrypted file yesterday. Don't know who took it, but amazingly enough Shannon checked out of the hospital and didn't go home that same day."

Damien and Dominic shared a look as Day ran his fingers through his hair, "Here's the plan. I'm going to stir the governmental agency pot. You two are going to go clean up your messes."

* * *

_The hallway went on forever, different colored doors alternating on each side. Mary was seeking something but didn't know what. Knowing she'd have to open the doors to find it, though, and dreading what she would find behind them._

_The first door was green. She turned the knob and the door swung open slowly revealing a road that disappeared in the fog. A lone figure walked away from her…her father. Mary called for him, but he didn't turn and suddenly the door slammed shut, leaving her in the hallway again. _

_Breathing hard and now feeling danger, Mary moved to the next door. It was white without a knob, and she pushed it open._

_Eps sat at a table with his legs crossed and fingers steepled. Saying nothing, he stared at her and she stared back, trying to understand his purpose. His outline slowly began to shimmer and he began to melt. Mary gasped and stepped backwards as the door slammed shut._

_She knew she had to get out of the hallway now. There was danger approaching and she couldn't stay here any longer, so she began to run. Looking for a place to hide, Mary opened a blue door to her right and recognized Raphael with his back turned to her. She called to him._

_He turned and Mary yelped, backpeddling out into the hall again. Raph's face was twisted grotesquely as his lips were sewn together. It was something out of a horror movie and she ran blindly trying to escape. _

_A black door to her left opened suddenly and she ducked as a figure rushed out to intercept her. Stumbling, Mary fell to the floor and rolled over to defend herself. Mark stood over her with a baseball bat and she screamed._

She awoke tangled in the sheets with her face in the pillow, confused as to where she was. The first attempt to right herself reminded her of her limitations, and Mary grunted with effort as she freed her limbs from the linens. She was soaked with sweat from the dream, and after kicking off all her covers, she lay on her back to orient herself.

Marshall's house…she was at Marshall's. Her heart rate slowed with the thought as she realized she was safe, but knew going back to sleep was not an option. The sky outside her window was graying with the approach of dawn as Mary slowly and painfully crawled out of bed and shuffled out to the kitchen. Marshall's door was open a crack so she was careful to be quiet as she moved past.

Her pain meds were on the counter by the plants, and she shook out two to take with a glass of water. Mary realized she hadn't really looked at the flowers and plants given to her by other co-workers and acquaintances from work. The arrangements were pretty, the cards were kind and she was puzzled as to why people she walked all over every day bothered to send her good wishes. That got her to thinking about Jinx's words the day before.

Maybe she wasn't a nice person. Maybe she did drive everyone away and make their lives miserable, some toxic influence in their world. Her dream represented that, she figured. Her father wandering into the fog, Eps being melted away and Raph…Mary shuddered with the memory of his face in her dream. Unsure of the symbolism there, her thoughts then fell on Mark.

That part of the dream was too real, and Mary remembered that night. Knew he had been angry before they went out drinking, and just managed to piss him off more and more as the night went on. She didn't care, of course, as she was just as abrasive and verbally abusive then as she was now. Unfortunately, she didn't read people as well back then, and didn't know he would become violent. It started with the slap, then hell broke loose. Mary didn't tolerate anyone hitting her, and her temper dictated she retaliate with a slap of her own. Mark exploded and threw her across the table. She landed on the floor stunned, never having expected to be overpowered so easily, and barely had time to scramble to her feet when he came at her again. Wily enough to fight dirty, Mary managed to escape the house with only a black eye, bloody lip and sprained wrist, but she knew she would never return. Knew to remain wary with men.

Marshall had heard Mary creep past his room in the early hours and got up himself to see why she was out of bed. Throwing on a t-shirt to go with his lightning bolt pajama pants, he quietly emerged from his room to seek out his partner.

He saw her reading the cards from the flowers on the counter and stood at the end of the hallway to watch her. She looked rumpled, and couldn't quite stand up straight, but there were no signs of pain on her face as she moved from one vase to the next. Her gaze traveled to the wall and he saw her eyes glaze over as she must be turning things over in her mind. Jaw set and brow furrowed, Mary's thoughts were reflected on her face and Marshall began to move towards her as she looked distressed.

"Morning, sunshine. What're you thinking about?" he greeted her softly.

Mary flinched and ducked, throwing one arm up as if to ward off a blow and Marshall stepped back in surprise. Seeing it was him, his partner's hand moved to rest on her chest and she chuckled nervously.

"Jesus, Marshall…you scared the crap out of me!"

"Apparently. You'd think I was going to beat you."

She just shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Lost in thoughts from a long time ago." Moving to the refrigerator to open the door, she asked, "What's for breakfast around here? I'm starving."

He leaned against the counter and eyed her, "You do know it's 5:30 in the morning, right?" Her reaction to his appearance was bothering him and he could tell she was trying to avoid the subject now.

"My internal clock is all messed up. Sometimes I sleep during the day…sometimes at night." Mary had spotted some orange juice on a lower shelf, but was having trouble bending down far enough to reach it.

Marshall saw her dilemma and stepped over to grab the carton and a glass for her to pour a drink. Deciding to just give in and start the day, he investigated the pantry for breakfast options.

"So, what were you thinking about?" he tried to bring her back around to the topic of interest.

Mary shot him a sideways glance as she drank her orange juice. He was like a dog with a bone when focused, and she could've kicked herself for startling so badly a few minutes before. She really didn't want to talk about it, and didn't see why it was any of his business anyway.

"I had a nightmare, real weird and creepy, and I was just trying to make some sense of it." that should suffice.

Marshall was mixing up some waffle batter and pointed at a few ingredients for her to hand to him, "Who was in it?"

"What does it matter? It was just a nightmare."

"You looked distressed…and I've never seen you flinch like that before."

She sighed and glared at him, "I **was** distressed. And now I don't want to talk about it."

She had been standing for too long at this point and was starting to become short of breath, so grabbing her juice, Mary made for the couch as Marshall narrowed his eyes at her retreating back. He never knew if she was going to blow hot or cold, and somedays the winds would change in a moment's notice. Last night she was open and honest, now the walls were back up and the attitude front and center. Knowing resistance was futile, he set his mind to the task at hand and finished making breakfast in silence as Mary flipped on the TV to watch CNN.

The waffles were terrific, and the partners fell back into a comfortable banter as Mary's mood improved with food. Marshall wouldn't let her help clean up at all, and headed off her protests by asking her to go through his files on Nicolas Thompson. She didn't find any information that piqued her interest, and within an hour of pouring over names, dates and places, she was frustrated.

"What I can't figure out is what happened to bring this guy to town suddenly nine months ago," she was noting Marshall's scribbles on the sides of the report, "And you wrote down that Lala's crew said Lala showed up with him."

"Chances are, Lala's not Lala either. Worst case…two operatives in the same crew working for someone who doesn't exist." Marshall was moving pictures around on the flip chart board.

"Okay, so some boss puts his own people into the neighborhood to take over a crew and set up operations. A bait and switch to burn somebody else? Revenge? Hostile takeover?" Mary was grasping at straws, "What I want to know is, were they caught up in this CIA fiasco by accident, or were they put in place by the same people? If the latter is true, then we need to figure out what was going on nine months ago and tie it to today."

"I can't think of why the CIA would have their fingers in the domestic drug trade. Albuquerque's not on the international grid."

Mary blew out a breath, "Marshall, the **FBI** did have their fingers in Albuquerque's drug trade nine months ago." She was really, really hoping there was no connection there.

Marshall was just staring at her and Mary got a sinking feeling in her gut.

"Chuck was abducted and killed, Spanky was taken out of the picture and the FBI's leads and sources all dried up." He was up and writing names on the large paper boards and Mary could tell his mind was working faster than he could write or talk. She waited for him to gather it all together.

"Mare, we don't know who Spanky worked for. He wasn't the top of the food chain and that was the guy the FBI was hoping to fry. Never got that far. I'm thinking someone got nervous at who the FBI was looking at, took out the connections between Spanky and his boss, and set up their own network instead. Enter Lala and Nico."

She was excited and anxious at the same time, "And that 'someone' could've been CIA if they were playing a game with Spanky's boss."

"Not legitimate CIA. Remember, Nico's rogue, and I bet Lala is too. Something's very rotten in Jersey and it smells all the way here to Albuquerque."

She grasped her head with two hands and growled, "Jesus, this makes my brain hurt. Too many connections…too many 'what ifs' and crazy ideas. We could be totally off track here."

"I feel like Oliver Stone." Marshall drawled and Mary laughed.

She spent another fifteen minutes or so trying to organize her own jumbled thoughts, then gave up.

"I'm going to take a shower. Maybe I'll have an epiphany or something."

Mary watched Marshall shuffle from foot to foot as he looked down the hall at the bathroom.

"What are you all squirrelly about, nitwit? I'll clean the hair out of the drain and squeegee the walls if you want." she knew he was particular about the cleanliness of his house.

"What? No. I'm just concerned that you might need help at some point," looking embarrassed now.

A knowing smile spread across her face, "Worried I might swoon and you'd have to come in and see me in my birthday suit?"

He got redder and she taunted, "Get a hi-def view of my tatas?"

Walking up to him, Mary continued her teasing with a wide smile and walked her fingers up his chest, "Maybe I'll need help washing my back."

Marshall knew he was being baited, but his hormones heard the promise of a picnic and started up the grill. Deciding to fight fire with fire, he grasped her hand and stepped in just a little closer.

"Just be careful you don't drop the soap." he pitched his voice low and was rewarded by seeing the smile slowly fade as she tried to measure his seriousness.

Mary hadn't seen that look in her partner's eyes before and she didn't quite know what to do with the confusing sensations it caused. She was sure he was teasing her in return, but there was a glint of actual desire within his gaze that unsettled her…in a distractingly pleasant way. His thumb circled on her palm and she sucked in a breath, pulled her hand away and stepped back.

"Um, yeah. I'll just keep it short and be careful." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a nervous habit and broke eye contact.

Marshall was delighted. For once, he could rattle Mary Shannon. The woman who would go balls to the wall with any man and trade sexual innuendos like a Wall Street guru just turned into a nervous school girl right in front of him. And all he had to do was show her he wanted her. Interesting.

He let her off the hook, tucking the knowledge away to muse about later, "Please do. But promise to call if you do need help. I won't look…Scout's honor."

A small smile and nod tossed his way, she made her way down the hall and ducked into the bathroom. Marshall was all smiles for quite a while and hummed a tune while he typed more notes.

***** I hope you're all working through the connections. Please let me know!! Mary gets a little glimpse into Marshall and gets all verklempt...how cute!! :) Please review so I can report back to Oliver Stone LOL *****


	20. No Fear for Giving In

***** Whoo...this turned into another big chapter. You get all (well, almost all) the players and a lot of backstory. I don't actually know the layout of the Federal Building, so the architecture is my own. Mary has a bit of a breakthrough and...*ahem* there's a move forward on the contact front :) *****

* * *

Have no fear for giving in  
Have no fear for giving over  
You'd better know that in the end  
Its better to say too much  
Then never say what you need to say again

---Say, John Mayer

* * *

"If you think I'm going to stay here with a fucking babysitter while you go compare notes with the CIA you're not playing with a full deck, Marshall."

Mary could not believe what she was hearing when Marshall told her Stan was sending another Marshal over to sit with her while he and Stan went to the meet. It pushed all her buttons of helplessness and she lashed out with a string of curses that even made Marshall cringe.

"Dammit, Mare, it wouldn't be my choice either, but I have to be at this meeting and you aren't up to this much activity. I also have to consider your safety. Do you think I want to leave you here?"

She sneered at him, "You have no idea how much activity I'm up to, idiot. I've been resting fully for a day and a half and feel like I can take on more than a walk down the hall. You haven't let me do anything else."

"You have twenty two stitches and fifteen staples holding you together. There're not many activities you can take part in without literally busting a gut." his comeback was sharp.

Marshall knew it was going to be hard. Knew corralling Mary would be a task better left to professionals with cattle prods, but he still felt better having her under his roof and care. She had to push every envelope of opportunity, almost as if she didn't believe she really couldn't do it until she experienced catastrophic failure.

He had found her sitting in the hall once yesterday and lying on the kitchen floor counting the cracks in the ceiling this morning. Both times needing to do for herself without asking for help and running out of steam halfway through. Marshall was concerned the first time, then pissed the second and told her to call him when she started to feel worn out. "No." was her peevish answer and the battle of wills jacked up a notch.

"I will not stay here!" she tossed the challenge at him from the kitchen chair.

He stared a warning at her, "Stop being childish. You've got the number for the conference call so it's not like you're going to miss anything that's said, and I'll be there to see everything that's not said."

"I need to be there, Marshall. They need to see me."

Mary knew she'd be all but dismissed without being physically present. A voice on the phone doesn't need to be taken seriously, and the nonverbal communication at these meetings was often more telling than any spoken word.

He was pulling a few pictures off the boards to take with him, "Not this time, Mare."

She was quiet for a minute and he thought she was accepting the idea. He should've known better.

"Well, I guess you have to make a decision then, asshole." she waited until he turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow, "Do you want to help me walk up the steps of the Federal Building, or do you want to scrape me off of them when the taxi ride is too strenuous?" her expression was set in stone.

He jutted out his chin as he took a few deep breaths and met her in a stare down. Marshall knew she would do it. Would find a way to distract the other Marshal and get in a cab to come down to the meeting. Even if she didn't pull it off, he'd worry about it the whole time. Wondering .

"I don't like being threatened, Mary."

"I don't like having my decisions made for me, Marshall."

Mary grinned tightly as Marshall turned his back to her to dial the phone. He was grumbling under his breath and she was sure there were words being said that didn't often fall from his lips.

"Stan, it's me. I'm bringing Mary to the meet." shooting her another glare as he listened to Stan's reply, "Take a guess. She's sitting right here if you want to talk to her," he nodded and mumbled affirmatives once or twice, then hung up the phone.

Mary didn't change out of her sweats as the waistband of any jeans or pants was still too rough and tight against her incision. The CIA was just going to have to deal with casual wear tonight. Marshall didn't say a word to her after the phone call and she knew to just keep her mouth shut for the time being. She had won the battle, but could still easily lose the war and didn't want to incur those wounds.

They went over their game plan during the drive to the Federal Building and Mary felt Marshall relax as his focus shifted back over to the case. The Marshals were offering the CIA Jack Day and accepting whatever information on the operation in Latin America that they could get. Stan and Dershowitz had come up empty at the safe house in the barrio as it was clean. Too clean, according to Marshall's IT contact and Bobby D, considering a family had lived there for ten years as of four weeks ago. The place had been wiped down and cleaned out. It was disappointing and they had to consider their theories were misplaced.

Stan met them at the SUV in the parking garage and Mary recognized the telltale signs of point checks by both men before they allowed her out of the vehicle. She felt a little lump of apprehension in her stomach as she remembered her life may be in jeopardy and felt a little more empathy for her witnesses. At least she knew what to look for in a situation like this, whereas the people they protected relied totally on strangers to perfectly do a job they knew nothing about. It was humbling to not be in the driver's seat.

They had been given elevator passes from the Agency so they could enter through the parking garage, and Mary was relieved she would not have to climb any steps. Actually, the doctor had told her she could not climb stairs for two weeks, but she neglected to tell Marshall about that. He was a Nervous Nelly already and she didn't need any more fussing. She tucked her arm into his for support and was feeling fairly steady and strong on her feet for the first time since she woke up in the ICU. There was still a slight hunch to her shoulders as her stomach and back muscles had not recovered sufficiently to allow her to stand up straight, but her color had returned and her skin and hair had regained their shine.

The lobby was crowded as the nine to five bunch headed home for the day, and Marshall put one arm around her protectively to keep her from being jostled as they moved to the central elevators on their journey to the fourth floor. A few people recognized them and stopped briefly to say hello and wish her a speedy recovery and Stan chatted with another supervisor about some HR developments. Marshall, however she noted, was all eyes. Scanning the crowd and the balconies above, Mary could feel the tension in his body as they stood in the open area.

"Expecting death from above?" she lightly teased him, all the while appreciating his vigilance.

He grinned and glanced at her, then went back to surveillance, "The secretarial pool is on the third floor. Always suspected a terrorist cell lurked in there."

Mary laughed and Stan looked at her quizzically as their elevator arrived.

There was a large conference room reserved for the meeting at the Agency's satellite office, and Mary was quite thankful for the bigger conference chairs. She was concerned they would only have a choice of plastic or plastic, and was relieved to be able to recline the back slightly. Sitting straight up was still a challenge. Her partner was hovering and she shooed him away.

"Marshall, go with Stan and keep an eye on these yayhoos," she raised the water bottle he had brought her, "I'm set here and I'll just wait for the show to start."

It took about twenty minutes to get everyone assembled and introductions to be completed. In addition to Mary, Stan and Marshall, there were three agents and a representative from the State Department. All were wary of the others and the meeting got off to a stilted start.

"Marshals McQueen and Mann have brought it to our attention that Agent Jack Day may be running an unauthorized operation from our base in Latin America. This operation includes kidnapping a national, endangering a Federal Marshal then aiding and abetting attempted murder of said Marshal. They have also alluded to a plot to frame Marshal Shannon for yet unknown crimes." The introduction was done by the State Department rep named Marla Mayfield.

Questions were asked of all parties and Mary retold her version of the shooting a number of times. Careful to include small details and stress the memory of Agent Day standing in the doorway of the house as she was shot. Stan produced copies of the memos and emails from Jack Day, almost all of them new to Marla and the other CIA agents.

"We didn't sanction the removal of Francesca Garcia," Marla stated with a shake of her head, "We've worked in cooperation with Agent Finck here regarding the push to overthrow the dictatorship, but Day never cleared any other activities through the proper channels."

"He's been a bit squirrelly for about ten months," Agent Finck interjected, "right about the time Manuel headed for an extended visit Stateside."

Noting the puzzled and expecting gazes on the Marshals' faces, Finck decided to back up, "Day didn't give you any back story, did he?"

"Gave me the usual story about a bloodless coup and all that. Not my territory nor my business, so I concentrated more on the here and now that dealt with my Inspector."

"Well, here's the quick and dirty run down," Agent Finck settled into a chair and pulled up a powerpoint, then looked at the three Marshals with raised eyebrows, "This doesn't leave the room Inspectors, I'm pretty sure I don't need to stress that?" He received a silent affirmation from the WITSEC crew.

The slides matched people up with faces as the story unfolded.

"Antonio "Cruz" Ramos and Manuel Ramos are brothers, literally, in crime as the heads of the biggest cartel in the region. These are the people who actually run the country and the people we work through to achieve our interests in the government. Sad, but true, the money is where the drugs are. We do not, and I stress this emphatically, **do not** deal in any drug trade through this cartel or its affiliates."

Mary glanced at Marshall and he rolled his eyes while she grinned. Stan kicked him under the table.

Finck looked over at the now very serious Marshals and continued, "Two years ago we approached the cartel with a plan to influence a popular revolution to topple the El Presidente regime. It's a dictatorship throwing its weight around to repress its people…" he was cut off by Stan.

"Finck, we don't care about the politics. Stick to the facts."

"Right," again showing more slides, he continued, "about eighteen months ago, Manuel took interest in one revolutionary by the name of Francesca Garcia. He began to court her in earnest, and we saw this as an added opportunity to win the minds and hearts of the people." The slides were now of a smiling Manuel and Francesca and Mary sneered at them.

"Manuel is an excellent PR man and marketing genius. He began to buy up old warehouses and convert them into free schools and clinics for the working man…of course using them to funnel the drugs, but Francesca didn't know that. She saw him as her revolutionary sugar daddy and fawned all over him. El Presidente is getting pretty nervous about this time and begins to counter her efforts with subtle terror tactics. These began to escalate about five months ago, and we decided to step in at that time to push up our time table."

The next slide showed Manuel and Cruz obviously yelling at each other, "Of course, brotherly love exists only in Philly, and Cruz began to suspect Manuel had some side action going on in the states. Cruz insisted we plug up the connections, but we can't operate domestically so our hands were tied on that front. Plus, we had no info from Manuel or any of his cronies as to where to even look for this activity. Cruz became demanding and belligerent and was going to back us out of the coup so we had to compromise. We told him we would hand him Manuel and his inner circle under lock and key after the successful coup with a bonus package thrown in…don't ask how much." Mary saw Marla cringe and shook her head in amazement at the antics of her own government.

Finck's slide show came to an end and he swiveled around to face them, "That's the story ladies and gentlemen. Francesca was never a player on our front, nor were we privy to the abduction or plans to hid her here in Albuquerque. In addition, we now do not know where Day, Goldman or Francesca are."

The was some time of silence as the Marshals took in all he information and filed it properly in their heads. Marshall, unsurprisingly, was the first to speak.

"That's an awful lot of freely offered information for a tidbit we brought that you already seem to know. You need us for something…spit it out." Marshall had become increasingly nervous as the players were introduced and explained. He hated cartels. He had seen the damage they did without regard to collateral parties and wanted nothing to do with them. One of the reasons he didn't go into the CIA. Now he just wanted to trade information and return Mary to the safety of his house. Also, he could see her fading just a bit as she had been sitting there for nearly an hour now.

"I'm going to hand it over to Agent Carter. He's running the investigation on the domestic side."

Agent Carter had his own slide show, and Stan rolled his eyes at Marshall. "Whatever happened to 8x10 glossies?" he whispered as an aside.

Carter cleared his throat nervously, "Um, okay, we were alerted to the operation with Francesca Garcia approximately twelve hours after she arrived in the States. By that time, Marshal Shannon had her under protection at the big house outside the city. Within four hours of our notification, our agents within Cruz's circle informed us he had also learned of the extraction and was sending a cleanup crew to remove the women by morning. Apparently, he had learned of a deal Manuel had completed with Day to force El Presidente's hand and then have Cruz assassinated. Basically, it was now a rush to the finish line and Francesca and Marshal Shannon were merely obstacles."

"Why?" interrupted Stan, "why kill Francesca and Mary. Why not just target Manuel?"

"Um…well, from what we can gather, Manuel was nowhere to be found at this point and Cruz assumed he was in the States. Not being able to get to him, he decided to produce as much collateral damage as possible." Marshall grunted in agreement before Carter continued, "Also, we now know Cruz was told Mary was handpicked by Manuel and possibly had an inside connection to his drug trade in the states."

"What?!" Mary and Marshall exclaimed in near unison and Mary nearly came out of her seat. Stan stood to calm his Inspectors and added his own protests, "I assure you, there is no basis in fact there. If you think you've brought us here to accuse my people of ridiculous associations, we'll take our leave at this time."

Carter looked jumpy and nervous at this point, so Finck stepped in to save him, "No,no…we know you were roped into this without prior knowledge of the operations or background of the agents that approached you. But, Marshal Shannon, you do have a connection to Manuel's suppliers and distributors in the states."

"You have about thirty seconds to explain yourself before I have Marshall shoot you." Mary growled, wishing she had brought her own gun.

"Do the names Neil Carlson and Charles Johnson ring any bells?" Finck's words fell onto dead silence.

"Christ." swore Stan.

Mary wore an expression of disbelief, "Spanky and Chuck were in bed with the cartel? There is no way those numbnuts were more than lowlife runners…no way."

Finck put up a picture of Spanky, and Mary flinched back into her chair. She hadn't seen the man since the night in the basement and his face brought the memories to the surface too quickly. Recovering , she focused on the speaker instead of the picture, not noticing her partner's eyes watching her.

"Charles 'Chuck' Johnson was a worm and was set to testify for the FBI against Neil 'Spanky' Carlson and quite possibly Manuel. He may have seen the man or dealt with him directly because the FBI seemed pretty hot to trot to get him on the stand. As you know, he was abducted as the FBI agents were assassinated at his house. There were three sets of prints at the house that were unidentified, and we suspect they belonged to the assassins/kidnappers."

Three pictures appeared under Spanky as Finck continued, two with faces and one without, "Henry Miller. One unknown assailant, and Gary Payton." The third man was the one who had attempted to rape Mary before she killed him. She sucked in a breath and turned her head away with a shudder. Marshall sent a look to Stan, and Stan signaled Finck to take down the pictures. The agent gave him a questioning look, but advanced the slide. Opening her eyes a minute later, Mary was unaware her reactions were noted, but happy the pictures were gone.

"Okay, so we have a connection to Jersey through Manuel. Mary and I tossed that around the other night, so there's no real surprises there. I'm still waiting for the excitement to begin." Marshall was teasing the agent with a smile.

Finck smiled back, "Okay, Inspector, you've waited long enough. The excitement came out of the second safe house here in Albuquerque. As you probably know by now, we cleaned it out soon after the shooting and found an interesting assortment of items. Three listening devices, and another gun with a set of fingerprints that lit up our FBI friend's eyes with delight."

"Please don't use the words 'FBI' and 'friends' in the same sentence," Mary requested, "it gives me heartburn."

Marla got a chuckle out of that one.

"Whose?" asked Stan, again anxious to get to the meat of the problem.

"A match to the unknown man in Jersey"

"One of Spanky's crew?" Marshall was having a brain fart, "Why would a runner be here planting evidence in a rogue CIA operation to frame Mary in Albuquerque?"

Agent Carter was now excited, "This man, we believe, was an operative of Day's. Day somehow knew Manuel had action on the side well over a year ago, and we believe he planted this man into Spanky's crew in order to watch the FBI's case from inside the supply chain. When they got too close with Chuck, the man facilitated the kidnapping and assassinations, likely leaked info to lead you to Spanky and then insinuated himself into the good graces of Manuel to take Spanky's place. He then, as of nine months ago, became the supplier for the merchandise running through Albuquerque."

"Okay, I can follow that," Stan was rubbing his head, "and that would explain, to some extent, the arrival of Lala and Nico if they were also operatives under Day. But I'm still hitting a wall to explain why this trickles down to Manuel picking Mary for Francesca's protection. Even knowing her sister and her were involved in the whole mess, it was never announced that she was a WITSEC Inspector, only a Marshal…and her sister doesn't know either. There's a gap."

"We need to find this man. He may be the bridge." Agent Carter had run out of slides.

"Nico and Lala have never seen me before, that I know of, so if they were Manuel's contacts here, it still doesn't explain how they connected me." Mary was now sore and tired and having trouble drawing any connections at all.

Stan piped in, "Don't we have a name or face for these prints?"

"No. They appear at the scenes of these two crimes but nowhere else and are not in any databases." Marla offered, "We're trying to find any surveillance of Spanky and his crew to see if we can image capture this third man. We'll let you know."

Marshall was watching Mary fade and decided it was time to wrap this little powwow up, "What do you need from us?"

Finck got everyone back on track, "Everything you can tell us about that case nine months ago. Names, dates, activities…the FBI have closed ranks and won't talk."

"Really, I'm shocked." Mary interjected with dripping sarcasm.

The seven people spent the next hour and a half going over the Spanky fiasco in fine detail. Mary would give no more information on the events in the basement than she had ever offered, and that was very few. Marshall moved the conversation along to avoid her discomfort, but she was worn out and breathing heavily by the time they were all ready to leave.

Goodbyes and thanks were exchanged, and Marshall and Stan were finally able to turn their attention to the woman now slumped in the chair.

"You ready to head home, Mare?" Marshall offered.

"What gave me away, numbnuts? The sweat? The heavy breathing?" she was hurting and pissy, "And if the words 'I told you so' come out of your mouth, I swear to God I'll manage to get up and maim you."

Their exit was much slower than their entrance, with Mary needing a few rest stops along the way to catch her breath. She allowed both Stan and Marshall to help her by the time they hit the parking garage, and Marshall basically poured her into the seat of the SUV. She closed her eyes as she lay back in the seat and tried to keep from graying out as her gut throbbed and head pounded.

"Well, that was fascinating. I had no idea it was that complicated or went that deep." Marshall initiated the discussion as he climbed into the truck.

"I can't believe we have to talk about Spanky again," Mary rubbed her face, "That was finally becoming a faded memory."

He looked over at her, "You were pretty rattled by those photos, Mare. Are you okay?"

The overhead lights in the parking garage caused the interior of the SUV to alternate light and dark as Mary gazed upwards and she flashed back to her memories of rolling into the hospital on that gurney. The alternating light and shadow behind her eyelids as she heard Marshall pleading with her to live. Fast forward to his soft voice reading words from a book…quiet vows to fight for her and stand by her side…descriptions of his devotion to her while she was unconscious. Unbelievably, the next words that floated through her head were her mother's, _"…you only have to tell one person…"_

Second chances.

He was about to ask her where her thoughts had gone when she spoke tenuously into the quiet, "I never told you what happened in that basement, did I?"

Marshall took three, slow breaths before replying, "I just know what you reported…the basic outline. Is there more?"

He didn't know what prompted this sudden need for confession, and honestly wasn't sure driving was the best activity he could be undertaking when the full story unraveled. Marshall knew Mary had suffered down there, knew the events she described in a monotonous voice with no expression were only the tip of the iceberg, but he had never pried. Partly because he knew knowing would hurt.

"A little more, but mostly just details that I chose not to reveal." Mary didn't want to look at him, so she stared out the window and watched the Albuquerque skyline transform into night, "I didn't want anyone to think I was as scared as I was…or look at me differently. Especially you…and Stan."

"I can't imagine how scared you were, Mare. I would've been terrified."

The streetlights now added their glow to the reflections in the window, and Mary's eyes followed them as they passed by, "I still wake up with my hands stuck over my head sometimes, you know? Feeling those chains cutting into my wrists. I can't wear bracelets or watches anymore." She had to ask the nurses at the hospital to put her ID on her ankle.

He swallowed, "I didn't know that."

Marshall remembered discovering the chains around her wrists soon after hugging her down there. One of his first actions after getting her to the ambulance was to get bolt cutters from the SUV and get them off of her. Her wrists were bruised for over a week.

"Mary, you don't need to tell me this."

"No, I don't. But I want to," turning her head to look at him with a small smile, "It's time for you to know."

She told him all the details from the fight in the alley to the excruciatingly embarrassing events of the attempted rape. Marshall just drove and listened. Occasionally his jaw would clench or his hands squeeze the wheel with purpose, but he never interrupted or asked a question. Mary finally ran out of things to tell and closed her eyes with a sigh.

Her mother was right, she decided, it only took telling it to one person to make it easier. The pain lessened with the knowledge that someone else understood what she had gone through, somehow alleviating the aloneness she had felt all these months.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for letting me tell you."

"Thank you for trusting me." Marshall reached over to grasp her hand. Emotions were raw and near the surface and he didn't trust his voice to say anything more.

He finally turned for home and heard Mary's breathing transition to sleep halfway there.

She awoke when they turned into the driveway, and Marshall knew she was worn thin when she didn't refuse his offer of carrying her into the house. Mary just wanted a shower and a bed, and she assured Marshall she could survive the first on her own to achieve the latter. He made sure she had everything she needed for the bathroom, then retreated to his own room to change also.

He set her up with her meds and they chit chatted about some of the ideas presented at the meeting for a short while before Mary headed off to bed with another thank you. He told her if she thanked him again he was going to worry about a high fever and infection. It earned him a weak punch and he smiled.

Marshall tiptoed into her room about an hour later on his way to bed himself. He wanted to check on her, and when he saw her sleeping so peacefully, couldn't resist a gentle kiss on her cheek as a goodnight. Standing, he moved back towards the door.

"You missed," it was so soft he wasn't sure she had said it and he turned around to look back at her.

Mary was looking at him shyly from under her lashes. She may have possibly surprised herself by her own comment judging from the unsure expression she wore, but there was a depth to her gaze promising a boldness that made his breath hitch. This was a one time offer, Marshall knew, and if he rejected it she would retreat.

Stepping back over to the edge of the bed, Marshall met her eyes and replied just as quietly, "What did I miss?"

Slightly bolder, Mary tilted her chin towards him, "If you're going to sneak a kiss, you might as well make it count."

"_Oh Hell's bells,_" she thought as the words just kept leaking out of her mouth, "_what is he going to think of me?"_ The feather light kiss he had placed on her cheek a moment before raced through her veins to pool into a swirling warmth within her belly and she wanted more. Wanted her lips to tingle like her cheek did now, wanted Marshall to kiss her without having to resort to stealth tactics…wanted Marshall.

Mary's heart began to pound as she suddenly panicked at the thought of the actions she may have just set into motion and she tried to calm herself by thinking of wise words from a few days ago… "_he's a smart man. He'll know what he's seeing and what to do with it._"

She watched Marshall's gaze slide from her eyes to her lips and she licked them reflexively. That tiny action caused him to release a breath and sit beside her on the bed, his hand reaching around to cup the back of her head as he leaned in closely. Slowly, so as to let her escape if she wanted to, he closed the gap between them and softly pressed his lips to hers.

Marshall had no idea how weak a single kiss could make him until his lips met Mary's. He could feel her, smell her and taste her all at one time and if he hadn't been sitting his knees would've given out with the overload of sensation. He let himself linger for a moment before pulling away and looking at her.

Her eyes were the color of the forest floor and the slightest tilt of a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth as she reached up to pinch a handful of material of his shirt and tug him gently back down to her.

"Again."

If the first kiss caused her skin to tingle, the second lit it on fire and Mary was lost as Marshall slowly pressed her head back into the pillows as he allowed his mouth to move over hers. Her hand slid up until she could curl her fingers around the back of his neck and hold him to her. His responses to her only making her want more. "_This…_" she thought with a sigh, unfinished yet complete.

He growled faintly, reached up to grasp her hand holding him to her and released himself as he reluctantly ended the kiss and pulled back, breathing unsteadily. He saw her look of loss at his departure and so wanted to continue, but what he wanted she couldn't yet give. The kiss only inflamed the ever smoldering desire for her, and when her lips parted to urge him for more he knew he had to step back. Marshall wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste, though.

"Would this mean I don't have to sneak them anymore?" his eyes were darkened as he asked the question in a voice barely above a whisper.

Mary got that sly look on her face that always made him feel slightly like prey, and she turned her hand to lace her fingers through his with her reply, "You can sneak as many as you want. The fun is not knowing when you'll get caught."

Chucking slightly, Marshall turned her hand to place a kiss on her palm. Watching her eyes widen slightly and lips part as he then ran his tongue over the spot his lips just left, he added to her challenge.

"No, Mare, the fun **is** getting caught."

Her eyes danced as she smiled at him and he leaned down swiftly to press one last kiss against her mouth before standing up and stepping away from the bed.

"Sweet dreams." Marshall slipped into the hall and did a little jig over to his room while Mary smiled herself back to sleep.

***** Well..that was fun in so many ways!!! I hope the back story was sensical (please let me know!), and Mary and Marshall always please :) REVIEWS are my drug of choice! *****


	21. Not Here for Your Entertainment

***** Uh oh, the shit hits the fan. Everybody's trying to to pee on the same fire hydrant and tempers will flare. Enjoy! *****

* * *

I'm not here for your entertainment  
You don't really want to mess with me tonight

--- U + Ur Hand, Pink

* * *

She woke to a shout, pulse pounding while she lay still to listen as it wasn't clear whether the noise had occurred in her dreams or in reality. The answer came a moment later when another hoarse "No!" traveled down the hall, and Mary struggled out of the bed to go investigate.

The house was dark, but she could hear mumbling coming from Marshall's room and moved quietly to peek through the open door. Her partner tossed on the bed, his face a mask of distress and anger, and he threw an arm out as the mumbles coalesced into words, "…leave her alone…"

Mary slipped into his room and called his name softly as she headed towards the foot of the bed. He remained asleep and tossed some more, clearly becoming more agitated, so Mary called again more loudly while she tugged on his ankle, "Marshall…wake up!"

He sat up swinging, which was why Mary chose to approach his feet and not his head, and his eyes were unfocused as he exclaimed, "Mary!"

"I'm right here, nitwit. You're dreaming. Time to wake up before you hurt yourself." She saw him shake off the cobwebs and slowly focus on her while she stood still and waited.

Breathing deeply and looking around as people do after waking from a nightmare, Marshall's gaze came back to the woman at the foot of the bed and he relaxed, "Jesus, Mare…how long have you been there?"

Now that he was awake, she came over to sit next to him, "Just a few minutes. You were yelling."

Scooting over to give her some more room, Marshall rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair while trying to banish the remnants of the nightmare. He was chasing Spanky through a maze of staircases and doorways as he was sure the man would lead him to Mary. Marshall could hear her screaming, but couldn't find her. Finally stumbling into that basement, he saw her chained to the post…naked and bleeding…and dead. He shivered involuntarily at the memory, and Mary reached out to squeeze his hand.

"Bad one, huh?"

"You were in that basement and I…I was too late." He couldn't voice the details out loud because it would seem too real.

"Hey. You're not allowed to have my basement dreams," She softly teased, "I never agreed to share."

Marshall chuckled a bit at her attempt to lighten the mood and leaned back against the headboard to look at her. She was smiling and shaking her head at his fantastically crazy hairstyle and he self consciously reached up to smooth some of the pieces back down.

"Sorry, that dream was already mine. Just hadn't had it in a while," he picked up her hand and rubbed her wrist, "I guess your story in the truck tonight triggered it."

"Sorry." she made a face.

"Not your fault my subconscious mind is a wuss." Marshall joked as he didn't want her to regret telling him.

They sat there for a few minutes in comfortable silence, Marshall staring at her arm as he continued to rub his thumb over her wrist and Mary just watching his fingers as her thoughts wandered. "_Wrists were delicate things,_" Marshall mused as he traced Mary's bone structure, "_and they should not bear chains._"

She twitched slightly when he spoke, startled out of her reverie, "Why did you decide to tell me?"

Mary had a hard time deciding what to tell him. How do you tell someone your life was spared so you could come back and let them love you? Let them fight for you? Not only would it be awkward, Mary was pretty sure she'd stick to the floor if something that sappy came out of her mouth.

"I decided to tell you because you brought me home." Mary knew he'd think she meant his house, but she remembered the grayness of the Jersey Shore and the shells.

Marshall had a feeling there was so much more meaning behind that statement than he knew, but his partner had already offered him more than he ever would've been bold enough to ask for so he accepted her answer as it was.

"So, the bogeymen all at bay now?" Mary turned and smirked at him, becoming uncomfortable with the emotions swirling around the room.

"I don't know," Marshall teased with an innocent look on his face, "I might need a kiss to banish them completely."

Mary was glad the room was darkened, because her cheeks were burning with the suggestion, "Oh sure, now you're greedy. Give an inch…"

"Well, you **did** traumatize me, you know." the pout made him look ridiculous and she giggled.

Giving in, she slowly crawled over to him, placed one hand on his chest and leaned in to kiss him softly. His hand skimmed down her side to her hip and she shivered and pulled back to sit on her heels.

"Dove chocolates." she whispered.

"What?" Marshall couldn't make the leaps her mind attempted at times. He missed her warmth as she slid off the bed.

"You're like Dove chocolates," she continued, now standing at the door, "potentially addictive and just as delicious every time." Mary slipped out the door and was gone. Marshall slept like a baby.

****

Stan joined them at the house around nine the next morning, and they reconfigured the flip charts, expanding their pictures and flowcharts onto the walls. Being able to tie Francesca to Manuel to Spanky opened up even more questions, and Marshall was really hoping to get more information from his Phoenix source soon. They needed a name, one name to close the loop.

Deciding to take a break and make a grocery run, Marshall asked his colleagues what they would like for dinner as he would cook for them and Eleanor.

"Hey, I want to go with you, okay? I need some fresh air." Mary wandered to the bathroom to brush her hair.

Mary had talked to Brandi the day before, and while she and Marshall drove to the grocery store, they made a plan to stop by Mary's house later for a clothes swap and to visit with her family. Brandi had told her Jinx was working with Peter to get a handle on her drinking. Her mom apparently felt bad for her harsh words, but Mary wasn't convinced the sobriety would hold.

Marshall parked the SUV, and as he cut the engine two other black SUVs screeched to a stop in front of them and behind them and five men jumped out with guns aimed.

"What the fuck?" Mary exclaimed.

"Get out of the car!" yelled one of the men and Marshall could now see the FBI lettering on his jacket, "Get out of the car with your hands up!"

The two Marshals were not going to make the FBI agents anymore anxious than they already were, so they both slowly exited the SUV as non-threatening as possible. Of course, this did not extend to their mouths.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Mary yelled, "We're U.S. Marshals for Christ's sake!"

"This is a mistake. You are making a huge mistake!" Marshall added.

"Turn around and put your hands on the hood. Both of you! Now!" another agent ordered, none of the men had lowered their weapons and the Marshals slowly complied while staring at each other over the hood. They were both furious.

"Search her." the apparent agent in charge barked at the man guarding Mary.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Marshall, "One of you better start talking right now. And be careful over there." He was watching Mary's search and the man patted at her too roughly as she was flinching.

"God dammit," Mary hissed, "I just got out of the hospital, gently, you asshole."

It dawned on Mary that Marshall wasn't being searched, just held, and a bad feeling spread through her, "Marshall, this is going to go to shit fast. Somebody's spreading lies again."

"Mary Shannon, you are under arrest for the murder of two federal agents…" the lead agent began to read her charges and pulled one hand behind her to attach the cuffs.

She pulled her arm out of his grasp, "No cuffs. I'll go with you, dammit."

"You don't need the cuffs. Show some professional courtesy, for crying out loud." Marshall chimed in knowing now how she felt about having her wrists bound.

The agents were wired and angry, and they were not going to give any leeway. The lead agent spun her back around and pushed her face down into the hood of the SUV. Mary yelped with pain and Marshall made a move while barking, "Hey!". A gun to the back of his skull froze him in place, so he ranted instead as his partner's hands were cuffed behind her and she was roughly pulled upright to be marched to the car. Her face was pale and pinched.

"God dammit, you assholes! She just had surgery from taking a bullet. You need to be fucking careful with her!" He would've taken them all down if he could've.

"Marshall, call Stan and Finck!" Mary ground out as she stumbled against the FBI's car, "I won't say anything until you get there."

She was pushed into the car, and as it drove off, the two agents on Marshall stood down and backed towards their own car. The look on the Marshal's face kept them from turning their backs on him.

Marshall was on the phone before their doors were closed, and racing back to the house by the time Stan picked up.

"McQueen."

"The FBI just arrested Mary in the parking lot. Charging her with two counts of murder. Get Finck and the State Department, Stan. This is a fucking set up of monumental proportions and we need to shut it down fast."

"They didn't say anything else?"

"No, but they were hell bent on her. Rough and angry, and I'm worried. I want her out of there as soon as possible."

"I'll make some calls. Pick me up."

****

Mary was processed in the bowels of the Federal Building, scowling the whole time and only speaking to state her name and badge number or insult someone. She was in pain and more pissed than she had been in a very long time. Heads were going to roll when this got cleared up, and she could almost bet the FBI never checked the source of their information with any other agency or office. Always thinking their information was better than anyone else's and not wanting to share. It was like dealing with a group of junior high school girls. In addition to her overall anger, she had to tolerate the handcuffs, and they rubbed at her wrists like nails on a chalkboard. Even after an hour they still felt like lead weights, and she thought it was ironic that she had finally revealed her story to Marshall and then found herself bound the next day.

Mary tried to explain her physical injuries to the agents in charge, even pulling up her t-shirt to show them the wound, in order to impress upon them the need to let her move a bit more slowly and carefully, but it only seemed to spur them to give her an extra push or hurry her down the hallway a little faster. She was going to hunt them down in their homes when she felt better and leave them naked on their lawns by the time she was done with them. Unwilling to show even a hint of pain or weakness at that point, she used her verbal skills to spar.

She now sat in an interrogation room by herself and stared at the mirror on the opposite wall. Wondering why any halfway intelligent agent would think you could intimidate a U.S. Marshal by putting her in a room by herself for an hour, Mary shrugged and fixed her hair in the mirror with a half smile. Idiots. She could wait.

****

Marshall and Stan met Finck at the Sunshine Building and they began to make calls to their respective superiors in order to track the path of information being used by the FBI against Mary. Finck told Stan the State Department rep was making calls to the Attorney General's office, and Mary should be off the hook fairly soon. Stan wasn't convinced, especially after dealing with the FBI during the whole fiasco earlier that year. They didn't give up their prizes easily and tended to try to squeeze blood from a stone while they had them.

Marshall spent the time between cursing under his breath and barking answers to anyone's questions. He knew she was not being treated well...just knew it. Although he had every confidence in her ability to handle herself, and was sure she was likely giving everyone around her heartburn, Marshall had seen her vulnerabilities in the last week and she was in no physical state to tolerate even the mildest of abuse. In addition, the whole set up put his nerves on edge. Someone was gunning for her and the FBI just fell right into line to help them out. They had had a hard on for Mary since she escaped Spanky's basement and the drugs disappeared. Getting them to pounce on false intel was probably as easy as attracting flies to shit.

Placing a call to the Federal Building, Stan finally got through to the agent in charge of Mary's case; Bruce Salter.

"Agent Salter, it's come to my attention you've arrested my Deputy Marshal. I'd like to know what the charges are and where you came up with them." Stan put on his professional tone and he saw Marshall raise a scathing eyebrow.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss the case at this time, McQueen. I can just say she's in a world of trouble and we're finally going to close the book on this mess."

Professionalism be damned, "Listen, Salter, this whole case stinks to high heaven, and it involves more people than you're aware of. It's a set up…always has been and always will be. Pull your head out of your ass."

Salter snorted on the other end, "I'll decide what's a set up and what isn't, and that'll take some time considering your Marshal is not very forthcoming."

"Nor will she be. She won't say a word to you or anyone in your office because she knows this whole thing is bullshit. Just leave her alone and wait for us to get over there with some real intel." Stan wandered back over to his desk away from Marshall and lowered his voice, "She was wounded in the line of duty three weeks ago. If she has a scratch on her or a pulled stitch, I'm going to crawl so far up your ass you'll choke on me. Do I make myself clear?"

The agent hung up on him and Stan glared at the phone.

"Is she okay?" Marshall stood in the doorway and Stan jumped at his voice. He didn't know he had been followed.

"I'm sure she's fine. Just laying down some ground rules for the Lord of the Flies over there."

"We've got our source!" called Finck from the other room, and the two men filed back out to gather around the CIA agent as he received a fax.

***

Mary had laid her head on the table for a nap when the agents walked in.

"Dammit, I was gonna take a nap." she whined, "Your timing sucks."

"Marshal Shannon, I'm going to show you some pictures, and I want you to identify anyone you recognize." The agent laid six pictures in front of her and she just stared at him.

He waited for a few minutes, then prompted her, "You need to look at the pictures, Marshal."

"And you need a haircut. Neither is going to happen today, I'll bet." She wasn't even going to look at he photos as she knew there was a psychologist behind that mirror watching her body language. If she recognized anyone, she may give off a nonverbal clue. Leaning back with a grunt and keeping her arms to her sides and legs crossed at the ankles, she tilted her head to look at him quizzically, "What is it about you FBI assholes. Are bad haircuts a job requirement?"

A voice from behind her drawled, "Miss Shannon, this'll end better for you if you just do as we ask."

"Jesus, you sound like a bad B gangster movie… 'this will end better for you…'" She droned in an overdone Jersey accent, "You guys need a new script."

She waited. They were easy.

"Aren't you concerned about a double murder charge, Marshal? Federal murder charges…death penalty?" the agent across from her leaned forward and was speaking to her as if she was a few watts low.

"Nope." Mary continued to stare at him as it she was studying him.

The agent behind her crowded her now, breathing over her shoulder, "You may think you got away clean, Shannon. But we've got you dead to rights now. Persistence pays off, you know."

Mary grimaced and leaned away from him, "For Chrissake, does your wife take you to bed smelling like that? She must be desperate."

He smacked her upside the head and she chuckled and sing songed, "Uh oh, that's not going to look good on the camera."

Despite her underlying worry and anger, Mary enjoyed playing with her interrogators. They seemed to have forgotten she did this for a living too, and it was just so easy to push their buttons. She was always aware of her body language and made every effort to project a picture of having nothing to hide and being relaxed. It became harder as she tired, and the straight backed chair was torture, but stubborn defiance was her trade.

They parried and thrust and she deflected every attempt to coax even a tidbit of information out of her. The agent across the table grew frustrated first and yelled at her, which caused her to just sit and smile and make a rude comment about his temper. That earned her another smack upside the head. She was going to need some Tylenol when this was done and these pricks were going to need a new job.

The agent who was standing was the more dangerous of the two and was learning her tells. He dismissed the younger agent.

"You don't like me this close to you, do you?" he asked from behind her again, breath on her shoulder.

"I do have a fairly large personal space radius, and you are inside it. Your point would be?"

He drug a chair up and sat behind her with his chin on her shoulder, "Oh, I thought I might just make myself comfortable. Sit here a while…enjoy the view."

"Gosh, I might start to think you like me. We may have to date." She just took deep breaths and started counting backwards from one thousand for the pure banality of the task.

Mary was tired now and wondering if Stan and Marshall were making any progress in getting her out of this hellhole. Her gut and back ached to the point of cramping and she hadn't had any pain meds since this morning...nor anything to eat. She was starting to get a bit nauseous sitting up in the chair, but had no other alternative, so dealt with it. Now this asshole was leaning on her and she wished she could swiftly take his teeth out with the back of her head. Smiling slightly, she decided on an alternate tactic and closed her eyes to doze.

Jostled away a few minutes later as he angrily shoved her chair aside, she tried to catch her breath while he threatened her, "You're going to wish you dealt with us now, Shannon, because this whole shit pile of a case is coming down on your head. I'm going to make your life miserable, and you can count on that."

She knew then, that they had nothing. They were running on a wisp of planted intel and a wing and a prayer. Not once did they offer her a name or place…just vague threats and unseen pictures.

"You've got nothing, asswipe, and you know it. Someone's tickling your dick with false information and it's been so long since it's seen any action it's standing to attention and sucking the blood from the rest of your brain. Let it go."

He rushed at her and grabbed her jaw with a hard grip, tilting her head up as he growled into her face, "We've been looking at you for nine months, bitch. Accept the fact that your luck has run out."

"Not going to look good on the camera, moron." She mumbled as her jaw was held shut.

Just then, there was a double tap on the mirror and the agent swiftly released her to step back. He glared at her for a moment longer, then turned to exit the room. Leaving her alone again. Mary took about ten minutes to calm her nerves, then finally got to lay her head on the table for that nap.

***** Mary just *loves* the FBI. Can you believe the gall of those jerks? Heads are going to roll, and Marshall will lead the charge! Let me know what you like...*hint: review!*****


	22. Save Me Save Me

***** this chapter fought with me, and I'm not sure it's right, but the struggle has ceased. *****

***** The calvalry comes to the rescue and feelings get sorted out later. Enjoy! *****

* * *

Save me save me save me  
I can't face this life alone  
Save me save me save me...  
I'm naked and I'm far from home

--- Save Me, Queen

* * *

Marshall, Stan and Agent Finck gathered around the end of the conference table to review the fax Finck had just received along with documents Eleanor had provided ten minutes earlier, including Agent Bruce Salter's bio and pieces of his personnel file.

Stan spoke first, "Well, damn. This would explain why Salter jumped on this intel without checking any back sources. He was one of the leads on the original bust in Jersey, and to top it off, one of the dead agents was his cousin."

"Mary shouldn't have to pay for his knee jerk reaction, Stan. It's unprofessional no matter what the reasoning." Marshall angrily muttered while studying the fax.

Finck put down his piece of the file with raised eyebrows, "They were handed her head on a silver platter. An anonymous data file with a recorded phone call indicating Mary was an assist in coordinating the hit the day before. Where would that have come from?"

"No idea. We were wrangling oiled up Ukrainians the day before." The comment from Mary's partner drew a surprised glance from the CIA man, and he shook his head in confusion as he went back to reading the file.

"The transcript has a caller stating a time and place for the hit, then Mary repeating the information back for verification. The caller refers to her as 'Marshal' and the phone number called does track to her cell." Finck flipped a page over, "The data file was run through voice authentication for a match. Convenient."

Stan slapped the table, "This is bullshit. I want that data file and we're going to run it through our people."

"If I hadn't met her yesterday, and didn't know the details of the case, I would say this was too damning to wiggle out of easily. I've already got a request in for the file and, no disrespect, but the CIA is probably the best for analyzing audio files. We can pick apart the time stamps and put some interesting filters into play."

"Did they identify the caller?" Marshall was curious.

"No…again, convenient."

"Well, unfortunately, we can't just march over there and say we don't like their evidence and get Mary back. What's our plan? Because there's no way I'm leaving her there overnight." Marshall stared hard at Finck.

Finck sighed, "Marla is on the phone to the AG's office as we speak. Laying down the issue and the background. We have to wait for the big guns to step in on this one, boys."

Marshall kicked a chair across the room.

****

The agents took another run at her about a half hour later. She requested something to eat and drink and was offered a bottle of water, but no food. They reluctantly let her have a bathroom break after she threatened to pee on Annoying Agent's shoes. Feeling partially refreshed, Mary settled back into the chair as they reattached her cuffs to the table and readied herself for round two.

"I'm going to play you a tape, Marshal Shannon," Temper Tantrum Agent was sitting across from her again and pulling up a file on his laptop, "and don't pretend you can't hear it."

"I don't like country music, Slick, so I hope it's not any of that Kenny Chesney crap."

He ignored her and played the file. Mary couldn't help but react slightly to the sound of her voice saying words she knew she had never said, and sat forward to squint at the laptop. It was definitely her, but the conversation had never occurred and she started connecting dots in her mind. Someone had obviously taken snippets of conversation and spliced them together to form sentences out of context, and Mary knew where they had obtained the data. That damn bug she had found when Brandi was arrested. The fact that the words 'Spanky' and 'FBI operation' were on the tape meant the data must've been gathered after her kidnapping.

She was completely lost in her own mind for a few minutes as she struggled with the knowledge that if the bug was not planted by Lauren, it just might mean the other woman really was her half sister. There were too many worms in that can to stomach, so Mary shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind for later. Annoying Agent was asking her a question.

"Miss Shannon, let me rephrase that if it was too difficult," he leaned in close and she wrinkled her nose, "Is that your voice on the tape?"

"I really wasn't listening," she shrugged with an apologetic face, "I was trying to remember whether I turned the oven off this morning before I left the house."

She enjoyed watching his face turn about four different shade of red, then got ready to duck as it looked like he was going to jump at her.

The other agent defused the situation quickly with a glance at the two way mirror, "Take it easy, Bruce. She's yanking your chain on purpose."

Mary smiled at the younger man and asked, "Are you going to let him drag you into this? Because his name's going to be on the dumb ass list when this is over."

"Miss Shannon," Bruce sat down too close to her again, his knee touching hers and she shifted away, "if it's not your voice, or you think this file is a forgery, please let us know. We'll look into it. But if you don't answer our questions we have to assume you're trying to hide something."

"C'mon, Bruce, don't you think I know the 'Helpful Cop' tactic?" Mary sighed impatiently, "Why don't you boys tell me where you got this cute little audio file?"

"We're asking the questions, Miss Shannon," the younger agent reminded her.

"And that was going so well for you. By all means, please continue." Mary just sat back and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.

She was running scenarios through her head as to who would send the FBI the audio file. Possibly Day…possibly Manuel…with the more likely culprit being Day. In a way, this attempt to sidetrack the CIA investigation was reassuring to Mary as it may prove they were on the right track with their theories regarding the unknown supplier out of Jersey. They were getting too close, and that was encouraging.

Bruce kicked her chair to get her attention, and Mary grunted with the sudden shift of weight, "What the hell was that for?" she snapped as her back cramped up.

"You seem to be drifting off again, Marshal. Joe asked you a question."

"Gee, I don't know why I would have a hard time concentrating? This could possibly be more boring than the last seminar on form revisions I attended. What time is it anyway?"

Joe answered before Bruce could stop him, "3:30."

"Jesus! I've been in here for four fucking hours, assholes. I'm pretty sure it's time to take a break. I'm getting a little cranky," she glared at Bruce, "Let me make this really clear. I am not going to answer any questions. None. Zip. Nada. Unless you want to know the capitals of all fifty states."

"We're done when I say we're done, Shannon." Bruce growled.

"You're a fucking idiot." She shot back and ducked as he hit her upside the head again.

The door to the interrogation room opened and another agent stuck his head in, "Hey guys…we're done. Get her processed out."

Mary just threw her head back and laughed as Bruce's expression could've peeled paint.

****

Agent Salter's partner received the first phone call at 3:10 pm and hung up looking a bit ashen. Before he had time to head down the hall to the viewing room he received the second call. He jogged down after that.

The Junior agents took Mary to be processed out as Agent Salter received the news he had been notified by the Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI, and then the Attorney General's office to cut Marshal Shannon loose. She was cooperating in a domestic and international interagency operation and any connections she may apparently have to the Jersey case were to be disregarded and considered bogus. They had gotten the wool pulled over their eyes and their hands slapped, and Agent Salter was going to have to eat crow.

He exited the elevator into the main floor and spotted his welcoming committee right away. Three men in suits standing stiffly by his desk. Two of them looked angry, one dangerously so. Taking a deep breath, he muttered curses as he walked up to them.

"Gentlemen, there seems to have been a…glitch in our communication network. We were sent some information that may not have been as…verifiable as we thought."

Stan had a puzzled look on his face as he turned to Marshall, "Funny, I thought they just fucked up."

Marshall was still planning which pieces to cut off of Salter first, "I'm pretty sure 'verifiable' is not a word. I'd go with fucked up." he was in no mood to pretty up his vocabulary at this point.

Agent Finck introduced himself and handed Salter a piece of paper, "This is a seizure notice for the audio file you received this morning, and for any tapes of Marshal Shannon's interviews. You are not to make copies." Bruce saw the signatures on the paper and decided not to argue.

"You pissed in the wrong yard, Salter, and we will make sure it's not forgotten anytime soon. Now, where's my Marshal?" Stan pressed.

"She'll be up in a minute, I'm sure. We're processing her out." He made to move past Marshall, but the tall man wouldn't budge.

"She better look just as pretty as when she got here, Salter. We warned you about that." Marshall stood toe to toe with the man for a few moments longer, then moved just enough that Bruce had to squeeze by him uncomfortably to get to his desk.

Mary was brought through the doors into the main floor about fifteen minutes later, and Marshall knew at a glance she was running on empty. Her eyes were defiant and her chin stubborn, but he could see pain and fatigue etched into her forehead and posture. Her clothes were rumpled and her wrists red from the cuffs, and when she shot him a look of profound relief he started a slow burn.

The men greeted her warmly and she smiled tightly at them with her arms crossed over her chest, a signal to not touch. She started to ask them what the hell happened, but Stan and Finck shook their heads and indicated they should leave first. Marshall was just staring at her and his eyes narrowed suddenly as he turned back towards the area of desks they had just left. He muttered something about forgetting some notes. Mary was suspicious.

He found Salter sitting at his desk and walked up to him swiftly, noting there was no one else within ear shot, and his hand shot out to push the man's head face first into his desk without any warning. There was a satisfying 'thunk' and Salter yowled.

"What the fuck!" the agent had his hands over his obviously injured nose as he whirled to face Marshall.

"Next time, follow directions," Marshall sneered, daring the man to get up with his eyes. He had seen the faint bruises on Mary's jaw from Salter's hand. When the agent stayed seated, Marshall slowly turned and walked back out to the lobby with intent to take Mary home.

Instead, they all headed back to the Sunshine Building to debrief, Mary refusing to be left out and arguing with Marshall about going back to the house. Stan told them to shut up and if they kept it up they'd **both** go back to the house.

"Are you going to stop the car too, Dad?" teased Mary. Finck cracked up and Stan shot him a glare.

"You try dealing with these two every day for four years and see how well you do."

It was another two hours before they all called it a night, Marshall's plan to cook had been deferred to another day and the people at the office had ordered Chinese instead. Mary had been ravenous, but now the food sat slightly unsettled in her stomach and she really wanted to go home and lay down. The continuous pain, adrenaline levels and anger made her surly and argumentative, and she had snapped at all of Marshall and Stan's attempts to provide her some comforts, as it had made her feel useless and burdensome.

Marshall was very concerned about his partner. Already worn out, she had insisted on participating fully in their session back at work, and every effort he made to provide her with a means to rest or be more comfortable was met with anger. She wouldn't let him assist her on the way to the SUV, nor help her into the seat, and he ground his teeth with frustration as she was obviously in pain. Feeling a bit defensive now, he just tried to tolerate her until they could get home and he could send her to the showers and load her up with pain meds. Maybe in the opposite order.

He noticed her become restless about ten minutes after they left the parking garage, "What are you doing?"

She shot an arm out to grip his, "Pull over!"

He immediately obeyed, and she was sliding out as he threw it into park. Stumbling a few steps onto the grassy portion of the curb, Mary leaned over and lost her dinner, slowly falling to her knees with the effort of throwing up.

Marshall grabbed a water bottle from the back, a towel from his gym bag, and walked around to where she now had crawled over a ways to sit back on her heels. He knelt down behind her and drew her back slightly to lean against him while he handed her the towel and bottle. She was shaking, cool and clammy.

"Sorry," she apologized after taking a small sip of water, "dinner didn't sit well. I don't think the new gut was ready for Szechuan King."

"Ya think?" he teased, "Maybe compounded by a hellish day?"

"Oh, it wasn't so bad," she lied with a grin, "their interrogation skills suck and I got a little nap."

"I'm sure you entertained them to no end, if Salter's frustrated demeanor was any indication."

She took a deep breath, "Can we go home now? I'm tired of being tired."

"Are you going to let me help you back into the truck, or are we going to arm wrestle?"

"Tired," she repeated, "you can help."

***

Mary took the pain medicine with a small glass of milk, then headed to the bathroom for a hot shower. Marshall hovered, but she was too tired to argue with him, so she let him set all her clothes out and ask her a million times if she needed any help. She decided to just start taking her clothes off, and he backed out of the bathroom pretty quickly while she chuckled. There was a small part of her that was disappointed he didn't stay. _"Another time,"_ she promised herself.

He was promising himself the same thing as she pulled her shirt over her head and he had gotten a tantalizing glimpse of skin and underwear. He wanted to run his hands over her to see if she felt as soft and smooth as she looked, and the rest of his body agreed. Shaking his head at himself for lusting over his tired, abused and wounded partner, Marshall headed out to the kitchen to rustle up a more stomach friendly snack for Mary after she had gotten out of the shower.

She chose the snack option over the immediate bed option, and they sat on the couch watching some cop show while she ate. Sliding the empty plate onto the coffee table, Mary tossed a pillow into Marshall's lap and lifted his arm to crawl under it and lay down.

"Comfy?" he drawled, surprised but delighted at her resting place.

"Mmmhmm." Then wiggling onto her back to look up at him, her pain finally a faded memory as the meds had kicked in, "Thanks for getting me out of there today."

He smiled and rubbed her arm slowly, "That's what friends are for…partners too. To save you from the bogeymen."

She huffed, "They really **are** assholes. I thought it might be just one or two, but the whole damn species seems to share the trait."

His face became more serious, "Am I going to have a problem seeing those interrogation tapes?"

"I thought you did a pre-emptive strike on that front already today." referring to his 'lost notes' adventure earlier in the day.

Marshall chuckled as he realized she was onto him, then let his fingers trace her jawline as he sobered again. Mary watched emotions swirl with confusion in his eyes.

"There's something bothering you." she stated softly.

"I think something's changed between us, Mare…I know it has, but with everything going on I don't know if it's…" he tried to search for a word but was coming up blank.

"Real?" trying to fill in the blank for him.

He smiled sadly, "Yeah. Real. It might be PTSD or something like that."

"So, you're saying you're sure of you, but not sure of me?"

Marshall gazed at her for a moment then took the plunge, "I've been sure of me for a while."

He watched her digest that and the emotions playing across her face caused him to feel a little anxious. She may bolt…she may laugh…she may even hit. He didn't expect tears.

Marshall's statement washed over her like a summer breeze, warm and caressing, and she let herself feel it. Just knowing she was looking for something that was already there was freeing, and she felt wanted and cared for. Things she had been seeking, but missing, for so long. Her eyes pricked with tears.

"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you." Marshall was worried and disappointed as he wiped her tears away.

Mary snagged his hand, "You didn't upset me…and it's not PTSD." She kissed the tears off his fingers.

Marshall had to admit that Mary's statement tilted his world a little off balance. Unrequited love is one thing, but to have it laying in your lap saying "bring it on" is quite another. The kisses the night before had brought the hope so close to the surface, but he was afraid to acknowledge it…afraid to give it too much power. He actually didn't know what to do at this point, and must've made a face.

Mary tensed, "What, you decide you weren't so sure?"

Quick to alleviate her apprehension, he grabbed both her hands and kissed all her fingers, "Never more sure. Just not quite sure what we do now. Didn't really think it out."

"Marshall doesn't have a plan? Armageddon must be right around the corner," she teased.

"You'll eat those words the next time we walk out of a squirrely situation with our butts still attached."

"You should not use the words 'squirrel' and 'butt' in the same sentence. Kelly told me stories about that sort of thing." Mary was laughing now.

It took him a moment to catch up, then he made a disgusted noise and joined in her laughter. They calmed down after a few minutes, and she reached up to run her hand along his scruffy jaw.

"I think we do just what we're doing. Just being us. Small steps."

"You're a smart woman, you know that?" her partner's eyes had become smoky and Mary was fascinated, "I may have to keep you around for a while."

"I'll stick around if there's going to be more kissing…and chocolate." She was grinning slyly and ran her hand up his chest to caress his neck.

Her hand was like fire on his skin, and Marshall was glad there was a pillow on his lap as her expression ignited a whole other set of burners. He let her pull him down as he caressed her hip, and the kiss was slow and sweet. Mary purred, and Marshall groaned in return as he parted her lips with his tongue to explore her more thoroughly.

She hadn't kissed like this since…well, never. There was always a more stimulating goal, but with this man and in this condition, the goal was just pleasure in the moment. He kissed like he had all the time in the world, and she was caught up in sensations as her body reacted and her mind melted.

They both reached a point where bodies were demanding more than kisses, and in unspoken mutual agreement, began to slow down and cool off. Marshall letting his head rest on the back of the couch with a sigh.

"Dammit, Mann, we could've been doing that instead of watching sports center all this time."

"I'm pretty sure sports center just got bumped from its slot from now on." he looked down to wink at her.

Suddenly, a giant yawn overtook Mary and she covered her mouth as she giggled, embarrassed. Marshall laughed at his flushed, disheveled, thoroughly kissed and exhausted partner…very happy he had been the cause of the first three.

"Trust me…it's not you!" she assured him.

"Time for bed for you, Cowgirl," he gently helped her move off the couch and down the hall. She was stiff and sore from the day's abuses, and moaned with pleasure as he tucked her under her covers.

"Stay for a few minutes?" she asked sleepily and he couldn't resist.

Marshall climbed atop the covers and lay down behind her to tuck her against him. She took his arm and pulled it over her hip to hold it securely against her and he smiled into her hair. It took about five minutes for Mary to fall asleep, but Marshall stayed for longer than that, reluctantly moving only after he found himself dozing after her. He promised himself he'd stay longer the next time.

***** I liked Marshall's preemptive strike :) I don't know if there really is a Szechuan King restaurant in Albuquerque...Janine? do you know? If so, please pardon my maligning :) Oh yeah...REVIEWS!!! *****


	23. Take On the World

***** Some sweetness and then...well, it's going to get interesting! M/M needed their own chapter. *****

* * *

So I'll say why don't you and I get together an' take on the world  
and be together forever  
Heads we will and tails we'll try again  
So I say why don't you and I get together, fly to the moon  
and straight on to heaven  
Cause without you they're never gonna let me in

--- Why Don't You and I, Santana

* * *

Marshall let Mary sleep in until nearly ten the next morning before he peeked into her room to check on her. Flat on her back with one arm thrown over her head and the other flung out to one side, she had kicked off her covers and was taking up most of the bed. He smiled as she snored softly and was glad she was finally getting some rest. Between her never ending drive to push herself and the constantly changing circumstances of the case, real rest had been elusive and he was starting to worry she would get sick. Recovering Mary was tricky enough…top it off with sick, and Marshall wasn't sure they'd both survive the experience.

His smile deepened as he thought about the night before. It still seemed vaguely unreal and Marshall was reluctant to let himself fully embrace the happiness he wanted to feel. His partner had seemed slightly…calmer, since waking up in the hospital. It wasn't anything a casual acquaintance would notice as she was still verbally abusive and scathingly outspoken, but she seemed to have softened towards him. The small pauses before contradicting him or tossing out an insult, almost as though she was considering his point of view. Her apology regarding the events before the shooting and her offer to release him still gave him pause.

Not that he ever thought Mary was unfeeling or callous, that was a common misconception due to her abrasive exterior, but she did tend to move through life with blinders on in order to achieve some set goal, feelings of others be damned. Empathy was not her strong suit, but sympathy could often be coaxed out and she would twist herself up in knots to right an injustice. There was just something new in the whole mix and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. A sense of purpose that seemed broader than the next case or witness. Something driving her to reach out to him.

Marshall knew she wanted to move into this new aspect of their relationship slowly. He'd be more than happy to jump in with two feet, but she was skittish and he was patient. They had to get through this cluster of a case before there would be any real discussion of how they felt about each other, no distractions to tweak emotions. And then they'd have to look at the relationship in the light of their job. He knew they'd be able to hide any fraternizing from Stan, and totally believed Eleanor would be utterly discreet, but he didn't want Mary to think for an instant she'd lose him as a partner or friend. She'd bolt.

He didn't want to lose her now that they were so close. Being able to touch her and hold her was divine, and Marshall eagerly anticipated the pleasures to come. He'd been waiting so long to be able to love her, and would be thrilled to receive just a fraction back. It was better than he could've imagined and it gave him chills. It just had to be real.

"You're either thinking about naked women, ripping the heads off of FBI agents or the fettucine alfredo they served at that little restaurant outside of Tucson." Mary wandered into the dining room to see him daydreaming by the kitchen counter.

Her partner startled at her entrance, then blushed and she smiled, "Naked women win!"

Marshall reached over to mess up her hair as she walked by and Mary swatted at him with a laugh.

"Jesus, is it really almost eleven? I must've been wiped." She was now plundering the pantry for food.

"Yeah, your snoring woke me around seven and I decided to just get up." Marshall pulled the items out of her hands and took over with the food prep.

"Ass," She sneered, "You could wake a small neighborhood when you get going. Especially when you're drunk."

"That's because the alcohol causes the muscles of the nasopharyngeal cavity to relax. The walls of the upper airway slightly collapse, and the air moving through that smaller passageway creates a stronger vibration because of the restriction. Thus, loud snoring."

She was looking at him with her lip slightly curled, "Uh huh…and here I thought it was just because you were a sloppy drunk." She gave up trying to make lunch as he crowded her out and moved over to empty the dishwasher.

"I am not a sloppy drunk!" Marshall protested, "At least I don't pass out in the middle of the yard when I'm trashed off my ass."

"That was **one** time, you moron, and you'll never let me live it down." Mary shook a wooden spoon at him as she continued to put away the dishes, "And you decorated me with a garden gnome, so I think it's my turn to strip you of **your** dignity."

Marshall suddenly realized what she was doing and stepped over to close the dishwasher before she could continue.

"Hey, I wasn't done."

"You're not here to do chores. You're supposed to be resting and healing."

She looked at him like he grew another head, "Fat chance, Florence. You know better than that." Mary opened the dishwasher again and Marshall closed it again. She glared at him.

Her partner reached out to take her wrist and give a small tug, "Come here." It was his tone that demanded obedience, and she rolled her eyes as she let him pull her towards him. With his back against the counter, Marshall pulled her into his loose embrace and leaned back so he could see her. Mary set her hands on his hips and tilted her head as she waited for him to speak.

"You've only been out of the hospital for four days, Mare, and three of those have been anything but restful. I know you want to get back to doing everything and anything, so give yourself the opportunity to heal and take the time to rest."

She knew he was right, but stubbornness reared its head, "Marshall, you know I'm not my own best caretaker. I just have to keep going, that's how I roll."

He studied her face for a few moments with a small smile then asked, "Do you trust me?"

That was the second time Mary had been asked that in a week and she blinked in surprise, her answer given immediately, "Of course."

"I try not to ask much of you, Mare, but I need to ask something of you now." He saw her forehead wrinkle with a little worry.

"If we're going to embark on this adventure of 'us', then I have to ask you to let me take care of you," he smiled at her as she looked confused, "It's something I need to do…it's important to me."

Mary tensed slightly as she didn't quite understand what he was implying, "Well, I'm not going to stand in your shadow, Marshall."

Shaking his head, "And I would never put you there. I know you, remember?" Gently pulling her in a little closer, he continued, "Letting me take care of you may not look like what you're expecting. Most of the time, it'll be me sitting back and enjoying the view while you run into the fray with both guns blazing. Ripping the heads off of everyone who stands in your way. It's a beautiful thing."

Mary had to smile at the images in her head.

"But," Marshall leaned in slightly and caught her attention, "sometimes it'll be me wrapping my arms around you and sheltering you from all the things that hurt. Protecting you from the world. You think you can let me do that?"

"_Wow,_" Mary's heart actually ached a bit, "_how do you say 'no' to that?_" She fiddled with his beltloops as gazed at his chest. There was a funny feeling in her gut knowing that he was going to protect her and watch out for her. A giddy uncertainty that she couldn't explain.

"No one's ever taken care of me before, so you may have to remind me," looking back up at him, she grinned, "But if you're going to encourage me to shoot people then I'm pretty sure it'll work out fine."

He grinned back, "Great. So, let's start by you taking **this**," he boldly slid his hands down to cover her ass, and finishing the sentence on a laugh at the look on her face, "and setting it over on the couch."

She recovered to wiggle out of his grasp with a halfhearted, affronted look, "You know, any other man would've just lost both arms for that."

"I certainly hope so." Marshall raised his eyebrows and continued to smile as he turned back to finish lunch.

Marshall thought it was odd how he had become so possessive of her already. He'd have to make sure to keep that dialed down to low as Mary would fight tooth and nail if she thought he was trying to claim her in some way. Shrugging to himself, he rationalized it internally as it would be a death wish to ever voice it, "_I'm a guy, that's what we do…and that's __**my**__ woman._"

Mary could still feel the damn man's hands on her ass and it caused all sorts of warm and heady sensations to meander about in her belly. She sat down and used a piece of newspaper to fan herself and turned on the TV for a distraction from her traitorous hormones. When she healed up they were going to do a lot more than embark on an adventure, she promised herself, it was going to be a wild ride.

***

They headed over to Mary's house in the early afternoon so she could visit with her family and get some fresh changes of clothing. Marshall teased her that he had a washing machine and could actually use it, but Mary pouted that she wanted different clothes and he, of course, gave in.

Ultimately, she wanted to see her sister and check on her mother. Even though the words Jinx had yelled the other night still cut and stung, Mary couldn't just abandon the woman to her addiction. She knew it wasn't her problem and she knew she enabled, but she would never forgive herself if some harm would come to Jinx and she could've prevented it.

Taking a deep breath on the porch before opening the door, Mary tried to put a genuine smile on her face as she entered. It lasted about a nanosecond.

The house was a wreck and Mary was appalled. She heard Marshall utter, "Jesus," as she categorized the mess. There was laundry strewn over the couch, some folded on the coffee table but most in wrinkled piles. The kitchen had dishes in the sink, on the counter and on the table while a small stack of pizza boxes vied for space with the answering machine. Glasses and plates also littered the surfaces of the dining room and family room while Brandi's school work seemed to be tucked into every cushion of all the chairs.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," her voice was low and slow and Marshall knew she was brewing a fit.

"Okay, we don't have to stay. Let's just grab your things and go." Marshall offered the suggestion.

"Brandi! Mom!" Mary yelled as she moved into the house and Marshall grimaced.

There was no answer, but they could hear voices out the back. Opening the back door, she was halfway onto the porch when she froze and Marshall bumped into her. He took her arm to steady her, then saw what stopped her.

Brandi and Jinx were sitting by the pool talking with Raph.

* * *

***** Ruh roh, Shaggy...it's gonna get hairy! Wow, Mary's going to let Marshall take care of her...I like!! Please REVIEW for my viewing pleasure :D *****


	24. How Can We Dance

***** It's not a smackdown of epic proportions, but there are definitely decisions made. Danger ahead! *****

* * *

How can we dance when our earth is turning  
How do we sleep while our beds are burning

--- Beds are Burning, Midnight Oil

* * *

Brandi jumped up, "Mary! Wow, we weren't expecting you."

"That's blatantly apparent, Brandi." Mary was furious, and the quietness of her voice belied her anger, "There better be a damn good explanation for the house…and for him." She narrowed her eyes at Raphael.

Raphael stood also, "Mary, I need to expla…."

She cut him off as she moved down the steps, "Shut your goddamn hole, Raph. I wasn't talking to you."

Marshall stayed where he was as it was a better vantage point to assess the movements of all the players. Jinx remained in her lounge chair and he didn't see any visible alcohol, while Brandi moved towards Mary and Raph shuffled his feet with a frustrated look on his face. Marshall wisely kept his mouth shut also and let his partner run the show.

Mary was now standing in front of Brandi and her younger sister was nervously explaining the situation, "Mom and I have been at Peter's a lot, Mary, and we haven't really been paying too much attention to the house. I'm sorry. We'll clean it up right away, I promise." Brandi lowered her voice as she glanced at Jinx, "It's easier for Mom at Peter's."

Mary struggled with the reasoning, even knowing it made sense, because the state of her house just reminded her how much of a mess her life really was. She had been lulled into a false sense of comfort over at Marshall's and had temporarily forgotten all the stressors that awaited her.

"Fine. Clean it up before I leave today." Clenching her jaw, she jutted her chin at Raph, "Now see if you can clean that up."

"Mary, you need to let Raph explain why…" Jinx tried to talk, but was cut off also.

"Shut up, Mom. You made your use for me perfectly clear the other night. I know where you stand and I'm not interested in anything you have to say right now." Mary had pushed past Brandi to move closer to her mother. Her increasing proximity to her ex-finace now brought Marshall down the stairs slowly.

Brandi trotted over to her sister to continue her explanation, "Mary, Chico can't get out of the country. That's why he's back over here. He wanted to apologize and ask for your help."

That didn't make any sense to Mary or Marshall. They shared a confused look, and then Mary decided to just address the man standing by her pool.

"Okay, fuckwit, what law did you break? Although that would get you deported, so you better just explain…and fast." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Raph.

He stepped towards her with his hands out at his sides, "Mary, first I want to say I'm sorry," Raph was not encouraged by the glower that only deepened, "I was out of line the other day…I was very angry…I explained everything to your mother and sister and they understand."

Mary snorted, "Well, they're full of shit too, so I guess they don't notice when a little more is being piled on." Raph reached out to touch her arm and she backed up a step and smacked his hand away. He looked hurt and Mary didn't care.

"Don't touch me, asshole. You insult me, threaten me and lie to my family and then you expect me to help you when you can't run home to mama?" shaking her head, she sneered at him, "You know what? I don't care why you're stuck here…you can fucking swim home." She turned to walk back over to Marshall near the patio.

"Mary, wait, please," Raphael strode over behind her, wary of the look he was now getting from her partner. The tall Marshal hadn't said a word, but his presence was duly noted, "My Visa expiration date has been changed somehow. I don't understand what has happened, but it's set to expire in a week. I can't get the paperwork together to renew it by then, so if I leave the country I won't be able to get back for over a year."

"And that's a problem, why?" Mary asked, "Who were you planning to visit?"

Raph sighed in frustration and Brandi tried to help, "He doesn't know how the dates got changed, Mary. Don't you see? Someone is trying to keep him from coming back." Brandi and Jinx both looked at Marshall.

Marshall realized what they were implying and spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest, "You can all leave me out of this scenario you're cooking up in your heads. That's not my style, nor do I have any contacts in those departments."

"And don't look at me either," Mary added as eyes swung in her direction, "I wouldn't waste my time. Try the INS, idiot, I don't know how those things work."

"Dammit, Mary," Raph ran his hands through his hair, "Can't you just ask around for me? You have contacts I don't, maybe there's a channel you can go through to get someone's attention. Is it so hard to help me?" Brandi and Jinx leant their support of Raph also.

Mary just looked at him in amazement…at all of them. Marshall was right. Despite her concerns for their ultimate fate, she had to agree her family and ex-boyfriend should be categorized as parasites. Just living off her good graces, her hard earned lifestyle, and expecting her to pull their asses out of the fire when it got hard.

Turning to look at her partner, she again recalled his words to her in the hospital, "…_I'm going to fight for you_…". The man standing behind her was the only one in this whole yard who actually gave a damn about her. The only one who would pull his own weight. She decided right then he was the only one who would get to stay.

Marshall couldn't decipher the look on Mary's face, but suspected she was making a decision that would have definitive ramifications. He was right.

She whirled around and moved to her mom and sister, "You two need to get jobs and get your own place." The two women both erupted into protests and Mary yelled, "Shut up! I'm not giving you a suggestion. Brandi can work and go to school…hell, I'll even still pay tuition…and Jinx can just work. Live together…live separately…I don't give a rat's ass so long as you don't live with me."

"But where will we go, Mary?" cried Jinx.

"I don't care, Mom. Go back to Jersey…live in Peter's garage…get an apartment down the street." Mary began to pace, "I have a job, I have responsibilities and I want my life back. You're always complaining that I'm impossible to live with, so here's the grand, fucking solution…go live on your own!"

Stomping over to Raph, she dismissed him also. Mary advanced and poked him in the chest with her index finger, "Fix your own fucking problem, Raph. I don't care if you live in the states or if you go home, either way I'm done with you. Don't call me, don't contact me and don't ever show up at my house again."

Raph grabbed her shoulders with a look of concern and Mary shoved him backwards. The effort hurt, and she bent over slightly to put her hands on her thighs, "Get out of my yard. I can't beat the shit out of you, Raph, but I know who would if I asked. I'd advise you to just go." She took a few deep breaths and noted Marshall move to stand between her and Raphael.

The Hispanic man glared at Mary with a flat, vicious look, and Marshall was on immediate alert. There was something dangerous behind Raph's eyes that he hadn't seen before, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared and the younger man just turned and dejectedly walked out of the gate. Marshall watched until the gate swung shut behind him.

Brandi and Jinx had gathered around Mary to hang on her and plead their cases. She threw off their arms and pulled away to stalk towards the house, Marshall jogging over to join her and pulling up short as she suddenly turned around again to address the two women still standing on the pool deck.

"Now, get in my house and clean it up. I'll give you a month to get your shit together and find a new place, but if I ever see my place look like this again you'll be sitting on the curb with your crap the next day. Got it?" Breathing heavily, Mary glared at them both until they nodded and swiftly moved past her through the door.

She put her hands on her thighs again as she tried to catch her breath. Mary was appalled at her lack of endurance for even a short rant, and pushing Raph had used all the wrong muscles so her incision burned too.

A gentle hand on her back and her partner's voice, "Have a seat, Mare…catch your breath." as he guided her to sit on the steps.

Mary sat and put her head in her hands, "Jesus, Marshall, they push my buttons. Did I do the right thing?"

He huffed, "You're asking the wrong person. I think you've tolerated them far too long already." Knowing she needed some reassurance, though, he added, "They're big girls, Mare, and they need to take the reins of their own lives at some point. Some people just need a push and they do just fine once they're out of the nest. You've done wonders for them, but it's time for you to get to focus on you."

She slowly shook her head, "But what if they get into trouble? I don't want them living on the street."

"You'll know when you really need to rescue them, but I'm betting they'll be okay. They **are** Shannon women after all. A tough bunch, I've found." he smiled at her as she gave him a sideways look.

"Are you going to be okay about Raph?" Marshall continued, "I don't understand what happened to his Visa."

She sat up with a perplexed look, "Yeah, what the hell was that about? Seems really odd, but then I don't know much about immigration policies." she shrugged.

"He was pretty ballsy to come back here. Probably a good thing you're out of action or he'd be sporting a few bruises by now." Marshall was enjoying the thoughts of Raph getting the snot beat out of him by Mary.

His partner noted his gleeful daydream, "Damn, boy, I would've given him to you if you wanted him that badly."

Slightly abashed at being called out, Marshall shrugged, "Well, if he comes around again I wouldn't mind a go at him."

Mary laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. Marshall put his arm around her and pulled her up against him to kiss her temple, "Ready to go micro-manage a large clean up, Dragon Lady?"

Mary rolled her eyes and Marshall helped her up. She took another deep breath before entering the house and wondered when that had become a habit.

Ten minutes later the clean up effort was fully coordinated and underway. Despite Mary's protests, Marshall was helping by dragging trash bags outside. She wasn't allowed to lift anything over eight pounds, so that pretty much relegated her to director of the production rather than a participant.

Brandi and Jinx were sullen and teary eyed, but cooperated fully and Mary refused to feel sorry for them. She was walking through the living room past Marshall when something caught her eye outside. Turning to look, she saw a black Hummer slowly cruise in front of the house, then the windows went down and Mary recognized the distinct forms of automatic weapons.

"Get down! Get down!" she screamed, turning and diving at her partner to slam into him and push him to the floor. They went down in a heap as the large picture window shattered with a hail of bullets.

Mary tried to cover Marshall as she heard Brandi screaming from the other side of the couch and her mother's screams from the kitchen. Marshall was rolling her off of him as she continued to try to press him to the floor and she kept yelling at her mother and sister to stay down and keep their heads down, her partner's voice adding to hers.

Marshall was finally able to roll himself out from under Mary, and the two of them began to commando crawl towards cover as the bullets shredded yet more of the front wall, door and window. Mary targeted Brandi while Marshall headed to the kitchen to get Jinx. Glass was everywhere, and stings of small cuts made them flinch as they tried to keep their heads and asses from getting shot off. Pulses pounding and mouths dry with adrenaline, the Marshals' immediate concerns were the people in their care.

Brandi was well covered back behind the couch, and Mary was relieved to find her with only a few scratches as she finally joined her. She called out to Marshall to let him know they were safe and he called back the same. Suddenly, there was silence as the gunshots ceased and Mary slowly raised her head to peek around the corner of the piece of furniture. Three thumps sounded as the floor of the living room came into view, and she saw three Molotov cocktails roll and burst into flame just yards away.

"Mary! Get out of there!" roared Marshall as they were cut off from each other due to the rapidly spreading fire.

"I've got Brandi and we'll go out my window. Get my mom out of here, Marshall!" Mary was already tugging her sister off the floor, and the sobbing woman followed her willingly.

Mary's bedroom was filling with smoke, but she took a few minutes to grab her secondary sidearm from the safe with some ammo and then pushed the box of her father's letters into Brandi's hands. Brandi was trembling and crying and Mary tried to soothe her by murmuring assurances. The women got the window open as Marshall came around from the outside, and he helped Brandi down then reached back up to get Mary.

He held her tight and looked her over swiftly, "Are you all right? Anything hurt?"

Mary was coughing, but otherwise she didn't feel as though she was injured. Her eyes caught the sight of blood on his shirt and sleeve though, and she pushed him back to assess him.

"You're bleeding, Marshall. Let me see."

Shrugging her off, he allayed her concerns, "Just caught some glass or wood, it's superficial. Stings like hell, that's all." Noticing Brandi and Jinx had moved away from the house, he guided Mary in that direction.

Her mother and sister both hugged her, and Mary's body began to protest and throb at the strenuous treatment as her adrenaline wore off. She hissed in a breath and untangled herself from her family as she made sure they weren't injured. Marshall was calling 911 to report the incident, and soon the four people were just standing and watching Mary's house burn along with other residents who had come from their own homes.

"All my books…how am I going to buy new books?" lamented Brandi while Jinx just cried and clutched the box of letters her youngest daughter had handed her.

Mary and Marshall were a mess of wood splinters and glass shards, their faces dirty from the smoke and the blood from scratches. Mary slowly started to sink to the ground and Marshall grabbed her to lower himself with her, positioning her to sit in front of him and rest her back against his chest.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he was worried about her wounds, "I want the EMTs to look you over when they get here."

"You can look me over later to see if I pulled anything. I don't want to deal with them right now."

She watched the flames with fascination and dread. She now had nothing but the clothes on her back and a sad, purple car. Was this yet another shove in the direction the universe wanted her to go? To start all over? She had managed to save the letters and looked at the box held in her mother's hands. Mary envisioned that seashore again and thought about her father's call. His words had not swayed her, had not affected her in any way and she had continued to walk away. Did she really want those letters in that box, or had she moved beyond the words on those pages?

Marshall shifted to pull her a little closer, and Mary's question was answered as he warmed her. She would leave the letters with her mother, and let another man's words fill her heart now.

The fire trucks arrived nearly the same time as the cops, and Marshall released Mary as he saw Dershowitz exit one of the cars. Instructing her to stay where she was, he went to greet the officer and lead him over to Mary and her family.

"What the hell happened? Is everyone all right?" Dershowitz had heard the calls go out and recognized Mary's address. The Marshals were a mess, and Mary's family only looked slightly better.

Mary gave him the details she could remember about the Hummer, but all bets were off after she saw the weapons. It was pure survival at that point. Describing the ensuing bullet storm and fire, she threw her hands up when Bobby asked about motive.

"It's got to be something related to this case, Bobby." Mary was trying to pick a suspect from their multitude of choices, "but I don't know who to blame."

"Well, if it's any comfort, you weren't the only ones hit today."

"What?" exclaimed Marshall, "What's going on?"

"Three of Lala's former crew were found with their throats cut down by the river, and Lala was seen earlier today."

"Jesus, the damn cartel's in town." growled Marshall and Mary muttered, "Dammit."

Dershowitz gave them both a suspicious stare, "I take it you two know a little more about this than I do? I'm assuming you won't care to share?"

"It's not that we don't want to, Bobby, but I don't know if we can yet. I'd have to run it by some folks first." Marshall explained with an apologetic shrug.

"Up the food chain, eh?"

"Something like that."

"Well, I appreciate that you've kept me informed as much as you have so far." Bobby put his notepad away and glanced over as he saw Stan's truck pull up to the scene, "Just let me know when we can play together again." saying his goodbyes as Stan jogged over.

Their boss was obviously concerned for them and for Mary's family, and was especially focused on making sure they had a place to spend the night. Considering the house was likely targeted due to Mary's work, Stan would gladly foot the bill for a hotel. Brandi thanked him, but said Peter was on his way over to take them to his house, and Jinx agreed she'd like to go there too. Mary, of course, would stay at Marshall's.

She resisted both men's efforts to get her checked out by the EMTs, and began to snap at them irritably when they pressed the issue. Marshall knew when to back off, and assured Stan he would watch her closely. Mary was starting to feel a little disconnected as she watched her house burn to the ground and had gotten up to just wander in order to think.

Peter arrived and Brandi collapsed into his arms while Jinx also mustered up another round of tears. He promised Mary he'd watch out for the women, and she could come by anytime. The firefighters told Mary she wouldn't be able to access her house until the next morning as it would be dangerous until then, so she and Marshall agreed to meet up with Stan the next morning to pound out ideas regarding the incident while the investigators went over the scene.

The crowd was finally down to a few firefighters and a cop, and Marshall walked over to draw Mary into his embrace.

Brushing some of the soot off her nose and forehead, he thanked her, "You saved my life, you know."

She looked puzzled as she wrapped her arms around his back, "Did I?"

"I would've been swiss cheese if you hadn't knocked me to the ground when you did. I never saw that car."

Smiling enigmatically, Mary replied, "Well, I guess we're even then."

He was trying to figure out what she meant by that when she stood on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his lips. Distracted immediately, Marshall spread his hand over her lower back and cupped her face as he bent down to return the gesture with a little more gusto. It was the first time he had kissed her while having her pressed against him and the intimacy shot right to his groin. Mary must've felt it too as she leaned in closer and gripped his shirt.

Releasing her slightly, he murmured against her lips, "This is probably better continued at my house later…when we're cleaned up and fed."

"I certainly know what I'm hungry for," she teased, her eyes aroused.

Shifting against her again, Marshall watched her catch her breath, "I hardly think you're ready for that ride, Cowgirl. Healing first. Small steps."

"I'm going to small step all over your head if you keep ramping me up like this."

"Are you calling me a tease?" he tried to look affronted.

"And a slut…remember?" her eyes twinkled.

"I aim to please," he leaned in to rumble in her ear, "And I promise you'll be very pleased."

"Oh, God," she growled at him as she pushed him away, "you're impossible!"

He laughed as he gently guided her to the SUV, glad he could put a smile on her face for a brief time after a bad day. It was time to go home.

* * *

***** Poor Mary!! That's one way to get everyone out of your house. Too bad Raph didn't get his ass shot off! And Lala's back...but who is he really??? REVIEW!!! *****


	25. Packages Tied up with Strings

***** WOW...nearly 290 reviews now and 729 hits yesterday...I'm not worthy!! Thank you so much for continuing to read!! *****

***** Now for a regroup. Mary and Marshall are going to have to do some planning and investigating, slowing down to take stock of what's left. Plans are going into play behind the scenes. *****

* * *

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens  
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens  
Brown paper packages tied up with strings  
These are a few of my favorite things

--- My Favorite Things, Rodgers and Hammerstein

* * *

Mary and Marshall tossed ideas back and forth on the ride back to his house, not able to make any definitive decision regarding motive. As far as they knew, Cruz was still gunning for her due to her supposed connection to Manuel and Day wanted her dead because she could ID him as being with Francesca when Mary was shot.

"I always wanted to date one of those popular girls, but this is ridiculous." Marshall joked.

Mary shot him an unsure look, "So, you think we're going to be dating?"

Marshall stilled as his brain sought a response to her question. Coming up with nothing better than "_Please?_", he fell back on his usual solution to a mental block and threw the question back at her.

"What do you want to call it?"

A number of phrases went through her mind and were rejected. Mary liked "_falling in love_", but uttering that word would be too hard yet, and she didn't know if Marshall was looking at their potential relationship the same way. Her gut yelled that he was in this for the long haul as she was fairly confident of his feelings towards her, but she still felt like that abandoned and betrayed girl when it came to hoping for happily ever after.

"Do we have to call it anything? Can't it just be what it is without a label?" she was confused.

"Well, it's definitely more than partner and friend…I guess I just unconsciously defined it." Marshall slowly replied, knowing to go forward cautiously. Mary had a hard time translating feelings into words, but he didn't want to assume she felt the same level of anticipation as he did.

"The word 'dating' always seems so temporary. Like it's just a pastime and there aren't any plans for it to be anything more. Just fun and casual until someone gets bored." She was intently picking small splinters of wood out of the hem of her top, and her eyes flickered to him as she gauged his reaction.

His heart beat a little faster as he interpreted the meaning behind her words. She didn't want this to be casual, and was afraid he might. More lingering doubts as to her feelings towards him were banished, and reaching over, he took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss.

"You're not a temporary pastime, and I'm not a casual kind of guy." her eyes looked relieved, "We'll just let it define itself, okay?"

"I can live with that." Mary agreed with a smile.

Marshall called for pizza delivery when they got to his house while Mary headed for a shower. She found numerous small scrapes and cuts on her arms from the flying debris, but her incision looked fine and all her staples were intact. Not really being able to see the wound on her back, she planned to ask her partner to check it for her later. Aches and pains now well established after the endorphins necessary for survival had worn off, Mary was reminded of the events of the day with each breath and stretch.

Dressing in the one pair of pajamas she now owned, Mary put her damp hair up into a loose and messy bun and headed out to the kitchen for her pain meds. She decided to just keep the damn things with her from now on as they were usually needed when she wasn't here. Marshall must be taking his own shower, so she carried their dirty clothes out with her to put into the washer and was standing next to the machine when the reality of the situation hit her.

She now possessed a car, two guns, a pair of pajamas and a dirty pile of clothing. There may a few other soot covered and water logged items at her house, but it wouldn't amount to much. The insurance would pay to replace a lot of her belongings, but since there were only a few things that truly mattered, Mary didn't plan to go on a buying spree anytime soon. She leaned on her arms looking into the washing machine while her mind inventoried the lost treasures.

Pictures. Irreplaceable images of her as a little girl…with her father…happy. Photos of her and Brandi playing in the ocean and sledding down the dirty snowhills in supermarket parking lots. Lost memories of awards that once had meaning and power but now brought sad smiles of nostalgia instead. Boys and girls that she once knew, but were just faces on photopaper now that challenged her to remember why the picture remained.

A drawer full of momentos. The cloth bracelet woven by a small girl afraid of bad dreams, and given to her because the child thought her name was pretty. Pieces of origami tenderly folded by an old woman whose family was now safe because of them. Buttons from a bear and laces from ice skates. Birthday cards she never wanted from a man who never listened to her protests.

She didn't feel the tears or hear the footsteps, and Mary jumped slightly as Marshall came up behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you all right?"

"No." Mary shook her head as she continued to stare into the washer, "You know I don't have much that I'm attached to, but the few things I did have are now gone."

He turned her around she grabbed a handful of his t-shirt in her fists, "They have no right to do this to me, Marshall. I'm not going to stand by and wait for them to try again. I want to go and get them."

Marshall saw the anger and determination behind the tears and he knew he'd do anything he could to help her.

"I promise, when we know who we're after I'll help you do that."

"You won't try to stop me?" her eyes dared him.

"Not if you let me help. But I won't let you leave me behind." There was no way he'd let her charge into danger alone, and they both knew it.

Her nod of agreement slowly morphed into a sad shake of disbelief as she leaned her forehead against his chest, wondering when she had begun to count on him for comfort.

"I don't have anywhere to go." Mary whispered, thinking long term.

Marshall chuckled slightly as he coaxed her closer, "Don't be silly. You'll stay here as long as you need to. I'm not exactly going to kick you out."

The thought of being able to stay with Marshall was suddenly stabilizing, and Mary remembered their conversation earlier in the day about him taking care of her. Offering to back her up as she sought to decimate the threat against her and now bestowing compassion and shelter. He did it without thought and she found it way too easy to accept. That reminded her of another conversation.

"It **should** be easy." She mumbled to his t-shirt as he had managed to wrap her up against him.

"Did you just say I was easy?" He asked with false insult.

Mary had to giggle, "Let's just say if I put a light bulb in you, I'm pretty sure I could call you an oven." she leaned back to look up at him with a crooked smile.

His smile turned a bit predatory as his eyes darkened, "Oh, I'm positive I could heat you up."

"_Already did_," she thought in an instant. This man revved her engines faster than anyone ever had, and she already ached in all the right places. Deciding to put his setting on broil, Mary wiggled carefully against him as she stretched up to loop her arms around his neck. She was satisfied to see his lips part with a sigh and his eyes close briefly as her lips traced his jaw with a few small kisses.

Knowing he had to be careful with this woman who was now delightfully seducing him, Marshall slid his hands down her sides to slowly migrate around and cover her bottom. He so loved the feel of her ass, he decided. That tantalizing first experience this morning only made him want to get his hands on it again all day. His fingers flexed slightly as she pressed into him and he groaned with need.

"You are a dangerous woman, Miss Shannon. Loaded with all the right parts." His voice was husky and pitched low and it drove even more pangs of want through Mary.

Mary was trying to figure out how to get him naked in the laundry room when the doorbell rang as the pizza arrived.

Beating her head slightly against his chest as Marshall chuckled, Mary revised her earlier plans.

"Screw the cartel, I'm going to beat the shit out of the delivery boy."

He indulged himself with one last squeeze before reluctantly releasing her to go grab his wallet on the way to the door.

"And don't you tip him, either!" she called while starting the washing machine. Marshall gave the teenager an apologetic look and an extra dollar as Mary's comment carried to the front door.

* * *

"How in the hell did they miss them!?" Day was livid and waved his arm in the air as he paced while talking on the phone.

"I don't know." Damien replied, just as frustrated, but not out of control, "They were lined up like ducks in a shooting gallery."

"Well, think of something else! Find out where she's staying and have them hit that. Track her in the car. " Day was tossing out suggestions like a salad. He suddenly quieted as he heard Damien laughing softly on the other end, "What's so fucking funny?" he demanded.

Damien shook his head, "I told you she would be hard to remove. It's like there's some cosmic plan in play that we don't fit into." Sitting on the bench he had come to in the trail, he offered a suggestion, "Jack, we already know your cover's blown. What's the point of taking her out now? Revenge is a good way to end up in the chair."

"Because, asshole, I'm linked to you and Dominic, and you're both standing right in the line of fire." The operative's attitude was giving him a headache, "Tell you what, Dominic seems to be able to clean up his own mess, so why don't you follow suit and take care of her yourself."

"Oh," Damien drew out the word, "that's going to cost you well over the agreed upon price. You know I hate to do my own wetwork…too easy to get caught."

"You didn't have any problems pulling the trigger in Jersey." Day shot back.

"I had friends there. Managed to get hidden in the shuffle and keep my prints out of it." Damien explained, not knowing his prints had been captured, just not identified.

Day paced for a few more minutes and thought of the ramifications if Mary, her partners and the CIA continued to unravel clues as fast as they had so far. He had to throw this investigation off course, "I'll pay your fucking price, Suarez, just get me results. Don't worry about collateral damage either."

"There won't be any. I'm very precise." Damien hung up the call and began to plan.

* * *

***** So hard to write zest when one of the participants is in no shape for it!! :) So, Mary's still not off the hook in the death department. Stay tuned for more development and bad guy identification! I just can't tell you how wonderful the REVIEWs are. I want to especially thank farxy, kathiann, freaya, sfchemist, madscientist and jrfanfrommo for helping me with story ideas when I've been stuck! You've been great! *****


	26. The Hardest Part

***** Another long one. Plots and connections...banter and nightmares. Some goodness and sweetness at the end. Enjoy!! *****

* * *

The waiting is the hardest part  
Every day you see one more card  
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart  
The waiting is the hardest part

--- The Waiting, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

* * *

They were halfway finished with the pizza when Stan called to say he and Finck were coming over to talk about the case. Marshall asked if there was any information he needed to pull, and then inquired as to whether they could include Bobby in the discussion. Stan thought about it for a few minutes, then said he'd brief Finck and let Marshall know in a little while. Marshall thought that was fair and relayed the details of the conversation to Mary.

She stopped mid bite and put the pizza down to get up and walk towards the laundry room.

"What are you doing?" asked Marshall.

"Putting my clothes in the dryer," she called, "I'm not sitting in a room full of men wearing my pajamas, idiot."

"I could give you a pair of mine," he offered with a grin, "they're much more interesting than your boring old stripes."

She stuck her head out to look at him in disbelief, "Are you kidding? Let's see, which would I rather not be caught dead in…the pooping penguins or the drunk monkeys?"

Marshall felt a little defensive about his sleepwear, "The penguins are not pooping. Those are hockey pucks…they're playing hockey."

She was loading the clothes in to the dryer, "If they're playing hockey, then why don't any of them have a hockey stick?"

He could not resist the opportunity the size of the Grand Canyon, "Because the hockey stick's inside the pants, baby."

"Oh my God!" Mary cracked up, laughing so hard she was punctuating every other breath with "ow…ow!" Marshall laughed at her laughing, and she came out of the laundry room to point at him while she caught her breath.

"You're just a dirty, old man hiding behind a smooth façade, aren't you?"

"Yep. Just been waiting for a dirty, old woman to come along and appreciate me." he winked at her as he wiped moisture from his eyes from laughing.

"You better not be calling me old, buster." she teased and threw a loose piece of sausage at him as she came over to help him clear the table.

"Positively decrepit. I could take you with one hand tied behind my back." Marshall flicked the offending piece of meat back at her.

Rolling her eyes as she let the sausage just fall on the floor, she drawled, "Jesus, **Brandi** could take me with one hand tied behind her back right now."

Mary was still chuckling as she cleaned up the last of the paper plates and glasses, but Marshall sobered slightly at her comment. It was too easy to forget how very injured she still was. Although it was hard to tell now when she was dressed and walking around, he remembered feeling the ridge of stitches down her back earlier and now watched her shorten some moves or wince at others as she puttered around the kitchen.

"Hey, are all your staples and stitches still in the right places after all the rolling around you did today?" he moved to stand next to her.

"Everything looked good on the front side," Mary shrugged as she dried her hands, "and nothing feels out of place on my back."

"Let me see," he instructed as he turned her away from him.

Mary pulled away from him, suddenly hesitant and self conscious about letting him see her wound, "Why? I said it was fine."

"You said I could check you over, remember? You didn't want to see the EMTs." raising a disproving eyebrow at her. The switch had been flipped again, and Marshall wasn't sure what he had done…or if it was even him.

"I changed my mind." She sidestepped him and headed back into the living room.

Following her, "C'mon, Mare, I just want to make sure you're okay. A pulled stitch can get infected."

Grabbing her phone, she turned to face him with her arms crossed, "I'll let you know if it feels infected." She was now wearing her 'back off' expression, and her partner read her clear as day, putting his hands out in front of him as he stopped.

"Fine. Get septic and end up back in the hospital." he glared at her.

She ignored him and waved her phone, "I'm going to call my sister and make sure she and mom are all right. Do we want them to meet us at the house tomorrow morning, or leave them out of it for now?"

"Let's wait to see what Stan and Finck have to say." Marshall gave up his losing argument and went over to sit down and sulk with his laptop. His phone rang soon after and he talked to Stan for a few minutes while Mary talked with her family.

The conversation with Brandi and Jinx was stilted and superficial, the other women still angry and hurt by Mary's earlier words and actions. Mary just wanted to assure herself they were okay and not falling apart, asking if they needed anything from her. Peter seemed to have the situation under control, and Mary told them she'd call to let everyone know when they could go over to the house to pick through the rubble. Jinx told her she'd bring the letters.

Mary had a lump in her throat as she forced out the words, "Keep them."

"You want to wait until you have a safe place for them?" Jinx asked, not understanding Mary's intent.

"No, Mom. They're yours now. I don't want them anymore."

The silence stretched out until Mary was going to ask if her mom was still on the line. Her mother's voice was quiet.

"Are you sure, sweetie? You've had them for a long time."

Foggy roads and beaches leading to nowhere. Words lost on the wind. Blue eyes and second chances. Mary's voice was strong now.

"I'm sure. Maybe I'll look at them again someday, Mom, but they belong to you now."

Mary said goodbye and hung up feeling strangely relieved. It was like cleaning up a messy room and finally being able to put everything into its proper place. Her partner's voice pulled her out of her reverie.

"…give him a call to see if he can get over here?"

"What?" she turned to look at Marshall, who was typing intently.

"Oh, I thought you were off the phone already. I said, Stan and Finck want Dershowitz in on the case briefing tonight. I didn't know if you wanted to call him or if I should."

"You go ahead. I'm going to get changed." Mary went to retrieve her clothes from the dryer, and as she walked back past Marshall he teased with a saucy look.

"I could help you change."

Mary grinned and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Maybe later, Cowboy" and nipped his earlobe before heading off to the bedroom.

Marshall had to retype the next three sentences.

****

The five people took up most of Marshall's dining room as they milled about the table and counter looking over photos and printouts while discussing different aspects of the case. Marshall was still filling Bobby D. in on the prior details while Finck interjected with back story information. Bobby kept shaking his head and mumbling, "Damn…"

Stan and Mary were looking through the files Dershowitz had brought, including the crime scene photos of the three dead crew members from earlier in the day. The men had been shot execution style, then their throats were slit post mortem. Some sort of symbolic gesture, they figured, that was possibly related to the Cruz cartel or Manuel's gang. No word on the street as to who was responsible yet.

Bobby was finally caught up, so Finck called everyone together to start with the new information he had received this morning. Marshall remained engrossed in some new file on his laptop, but indicated they should start.

"I have one definitive piece of information that may relieve you…or confuse you," he nodded at Mary, "Cruz took you off the hit list two days ago as he found out your ties to Manuel were peripheral and mainly bogus. That wasn't his posse tearing up your house today. Good for you since you'd be dead otherwise…bad for you since we've got an unknown assassin running amok. Likely Day's influence, but we don't know what strings he's still able to pull."

Turning to Bobby, Finck continued, "The three hits down by the river were likely Cruz. That's his signature…throat slit after a tap to the back of the head, then placed head down on the riverbank. Now, we also know the suspect you call Lala is back in town and we suspect Cruz is looking for him. Why is he back in town? I can only surmise he's looking to clean up the rest of the connections back to Manuel."

Marshall interrupted, "Were we sure Lala was Manuel's?"

"We can now link him to Day, and that links him back to Manuel."

Stan sat forward expectantly, "You have an ID?"

Finck was handing out a sheet of paper with three pictures of the man called Lala, "His name is Dominic Vasquez. Again, ex-CIA with sealed records. His last legitimate ops was with Nico Thompson and Day in Nicaragua four years ago. That was likely the beginning of a long and illegal friendship between the three."

Mary was piecing it all together out loud, "So, we have Nico and Dominic here in Albuquerque nine months ago to take over Spanky's west coast supply chain when Spanky and Chuck are removed from the picture. We have Manuel heading up the Jersey operation, which is the supplier for Albuquerque. And we have the unknown man in the middle who infiltrates Spanky's network, cuts off the FBI connectors, eliminates Chuck and Spanky without touching them and then takes over Spanky's network, bringing us back to Nico and Dominic as co-conspirators. And Day hovers around the outside whispering into Manuel's ear." She felt like beating her head against the wall.

Finck was nodding as he added a few tidbits, "You also have to consider that this unknown man was responsible for tying you to Francesca and to Manuel. Either he was setting Manuel up for Cruz, or he was setting Day up for Manuel…both opportunities involved putting your ass in the hot seat to pull any suspicion off of him and whatever entity was paying him the most."

"We know Brandi brought Chuck's drugs to Albuquerque about fifteen months ago, and that deal was probably in play for a few months before that. Considering the Albuquerque connection is what our mystery man targeted as his 'in', we can say he was likely watching Brandi for while. And when Spanky accidentally kidnapped you," Stan had launched into his own story telling and pointed at Mary at this point, "and the FBI targeted you, it gave him the perfect cover to put his own people into position here. There was no one looking at Spanky's network during that time…everyone was looking at you and Brandi. Actually, the FBI was still looking at you and Brandi for a few months after that. He must've followed the case and dug info up on you and relayed it to Day."

Bobby was shaking his head, "That explains how he was able to follow the drug trail from Spanky to Albuquerque and finagle his way into those communities, even explains how he would know about Mary and her role as a Marshal. But where I'm stuck is how he knew about the protection program. Shit, I **know** what you do and I still can't find out what you do."

Mary smiled sweetly at him as she made a key turning motion over her lips.

"Yeah, that info is sealed up tight. Other Marshals don't even know which of their colleagues are WITSEC, and they work in the same building." Stan added.

Finck shrugged, "We don't have access either."

Mary shook her head, "But people do know. Our witnesses know…their families know. I'm damn sure the information leaks out to the wrong people sometimes. All our mystery man needed was one overheard conversation. If he had people here in Albuquerque specifically looking for dirt on me, that could've happened."

"Good point, Mary," Stan sighed, "If his people are any good, you never would've seen them. Never would've known you were being investigated. Dammit, it's almost easy if I think about it that way."

The people in the room were silent for a few minutes as they all contemplated the complicated aspects of the case.

Marshall suddenly spoke, "I think I have a name." All eyes turned to him expectantly as he looked up from his computer.

"My source scraped the bottom of the FBI cage and came up with early information on Spanky's investigation. About fifteen to sixteen months ago, the two men who were working with Spanky invited a new friend into the fold and the name 'Damien' starts to get tossed around. No last name, no other identifiers, but the name shows up sporadically throughout the FBI investigation until the time of the hit in Jersey. Then it's gone. The Bureau never seemed to follow up on it or find it significant."

Dershowitz had popped out of his chair with Marshall's words, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute." He mumbled as he grabbed his pile of files and began to page through them. With a triumphant, "ha!", he pulled one sheet out to wave in the air.

"When we were interviewing Lala's…er, Dominic's crew after Dominic disappeared, one of the boys made a statement that now is very interesting. He said, "_Don't know, man. Probably holed up with Damien. Haven't seen him lately either."_."

"And you didn't follow up on that?" Mary asked.

"Follow up on what? None of the other interviews mentions the name, and this mook didn't have any other info. We figured it was another crew member by a different name. They all have three or four names, you know." Bobby was a little defensive, "There're too many brown people running around this town."

The room was dead silent for a moment until it exploded in laughter. Dershowitz was confused for a moment until he realized what he said and had to join them at the ridiculousness of it. It took five to ten minutes for everyone to calm down, and most were wiping their eyes. The release of tension was welcome, though, and gave everyone the opportunity to refresh their thoughts.

"Well, that homeboy's statement does tell us one thing." Marshall had a look of revelation.

"Enlighten us." Mary drawled.

"Damien dropped off the grid in Jersey because he came here."

Dershowitz perked up, "Now that's something I can use. My friends in vice have been working these crews for a while. I'm going to see if they'll share some surveillance data. We'll see what we can see."

"Good luck," Finck interjected, "We've been picking through our shit from Jersey pretty carefully and haven't seen hide nor hair of any mystery man. Although, we've just gotten started on the FBI material."

"Well then," Bobby was packing up his stuff, "I do believe I have a mission, people. As usual, it's been fascinating…disturbing, but fascinating."

They all said their goodbyes, and Bobby turned to narrow his eyes at Mary as he stood in front of the door, "Stay out of the way of any projectiles, would you?"

Mary smirked at him, "Aww, you really do care."

Bobby rolled his eyes on his way out.

Finck and Stan stayed for another hour or so to make sure their stories were running parallel and they didn't miss any information. Mary could barely keep her eyes open by eleven and bid everyone good night at that time. Marshall looked at her a bit longingly, but couldn't think of a way to get rid of the other two men that wouldn't raise suspicion, so he had to let her go. Mary thought of misbehaving and crawling into Marshall's bed, but thought that would be noticed, so she hunkered down in her own room. Despite her idea to stay awake and join him later, she fell asleep shortly after laying down, overtaken by dreams.

****

_The hallway was the same, and Mary knew what was behind the doors. Fear had already enveloped her and she could hear her own breathing as she walked past the doorways. Refusing to look as the first door opened, she could still smell the fog. The door slammed shut as she passed it and she jumped._

_She didn't look at Eps either, but he called her in that condescending tone and she walked faster, again flinching as the door crashed shut._

_She paused and squeezed her eyes shut as the next door loomed to her right. It was like slogging through mud now, and as much as she wanted to run past the door, her feet would not move any faster. She was telling herself to run and willing her legs to move, but stood still as the door slowly opened and her eyes were drawn to the back of the man facing away from her._

_Mary told herself not to look, but couldn't close her eyes as Raph slowly turned towards her and tried to speak through his sutured mouth. She was screaming in her head, and ever so slowly her feet began to move again. This time, Raph was emerging from the room and Mary tried to get down on her hands and knees to crawl as she knew it would be faster._

_She could smell his aftershave as he walked behind her crawling form, and Mary yelled for help as she approached the last door from her dream. The door opened and Mark again stepped out, his face a twisted mask of anger and hate. She scrabbled towards the opposite wall, but Raph caught her leg and began to slowly pull her towards him. Yelling wordlessly now, Mary raised her arms as Mark leaped at her with his fists and she tried to apologize._

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry…please!" Mary cried as she warded off the hands trying to catch her arms.

Marshall was appalled at her distressed and cowering form, and he called to her again but stopped trying to shake her awake, "Mary! Mare…wake up…it's me. It's Marshall. You're dreaming, Mary."

He had heard her yells minutes ago as he was falling asleep himself. Coming into her room, he found her fighting with the covers and kicking at something that wasn't there. She was completely enveloped in the dream, and when he couldn't wake her right away he tried to take her arms to anchor her to reality. It had the opposite effect, and she fought him off with her pleas.

Mary felt the difference in the air and she slowly emerged from her dream state as Marshall's words began to penetrate and Raph and Mark's images faded. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of being attacked, and pushed at Marshall a few more times as her eyes tried to focus in the dim room. She was gasping and panting, and pushed herself into a sitting position.

He let her shove him back a little more as she still looked afraid and wild eyed, but continued to talk softly, "Wake up, Mare. You're safe…just having a bad dream. I'm right here."

"Jesus…" she whispered, now awake and trying to shake the sensations from the nightmare. She was sweaty and trembly and rubbed at her face. Realizing she had been swinging at her partner and he was now standing back, she asked, "Did I hurt you?"

Chuckling sadly, Marshall sat on the bed and placed one hand on her back to slowly rub her shoulders, "No. You're not very effective when you're half asleep."

They sat quietly for a few minutes while she gathered herself and Marshall soothingly ran his hand over her back and shoulders.

"Same dream as the other night?" he asked quietly.

"Pretty much. A little more intense this time."

He decided to just push his luck and pry, "Who's hurting you?"

She didn't answer and he wasn't sure if she was thinking about the question or just not going to talk about it.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Mary asked instead. Her voice small and unsure. She didn't want to go back to sleep alone in this room as she knew she'd have the dream again. She didn't know what it meant, but was sure it would play over and over in her mind.

Marshall pulled back her covers and helped her scoot out of the bed, "Of course. How could I refuse an offer like that?" he was smiling at her.

He took her hand and led her to his room where he got her tucked in then went to get her a glass of water. Mary was more relaxed already with the smell of Marshall surrounding her. He came back and crawled in next to her, and Mary scooted next to him so they lay side by side with shoulders and hips touching while looking at the ceiling.

"It's like a slumber party." She teased as she found his hand to hold.

"I'm pretty sure I never had any impure thoughts at a slumber party." Marshall drawled as he traced her hand with his thumb.

"I'm pretty sure you probably did…just hid them under the pajamas."

He had to chuckle at that and turned his head to see her better. He watched her face as she stared at the ceiling and smiled at her own joke, then slowly became serious again.

"I don't know what my dream meant. It has the four men in my life that screwed me over…my father, Eps, Raph and Mark."

"Kind of like the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, huh?" Marshall wanted to keep his tone light so she wouldn't become too emotionally overloaded when telling him about the dream.

Mary laughed lightly and looked over at him, "That's a good way of looking at it."

"Well, I know what three of them did, but I don't know much about Mark."

Again, she was quiet for a minute or two, then suddenly shuddered. Marshall ached for her and coaxed her into rolling on her side so her head rested on his chest and he could tuck his other arm behind her. Mary reached over him to lay her arm across his stomach and she sighed as she relaxed.

"You know I was married to Mark briefly. A stupid act of perceived independence at a very young age." She had given Marshall the cliff notes of the story a few years ago when they chased a witness into Las Vegas and had to visit a number of wedding chapels to find him.

"You said it lasted about a month?" he drew circles on her back while listening.

"Forty two days and eight hours, and that's just because it took ten days for the paperwork to be finalized." her voice had regained its snide tone. Taking a deep breath, Mary continued, "He was volatile, as was I, so we had some pretty good shouting matches even before we tied the knot."

"How long did you date?" He was thinking it could've been long if she was seventeen when they got married.

Mary chuckled dryly, "About three weeks. It was lust at first sight."

"Ah yes…youth and hormones. I remember those days." Marshall injected a wistful note to his voice.

"Um, basing my observation on an earlier encounter in the laundry room, you're still having those days." she squeezed him while she teased and looked up at him.

"And you're trying to distract me from your story. No treats for you until you spill." Marshall pushed her hair out of her face as she glared at him.

"Fine. Things were okay until he got kicked out of the band. They found a better bass player and Mark's glory days were over. We partied hard that week because he just preferred to stay drunk." Mary remembered helping him out of the snowbanks and into the car. Cleaning up the vomit in the front hall. She could've stayed home with Jinx for that kind of fun.

"And?" Marshall's prompt brought her back to the present.

"Well, he pissed me off about something…I don't even remember what it was, and we were off in another screaming match. Both of us drunk. You know me, I can't just let it go, and I called him some obnoxious name that was apparently over the top. He slapped me and I reacted." Mary could remember the shock at being hit. She had never been hit by a man before and was very surprised at the power behind the blow.

Marshall reached over to pull her to him as the story became more intense. She held him a little tighter before continuing.

"I slapped him back and shoved him away. The next thing I knew I was flying through the air as he threw me across the table and into the wall. I didn't know he was that strong and I was completely surprised. I went down hard and it took a few minutes to get my bearings. He came at me and it turned into an ugly brawl that neither of us escaped unscathed. I finally knocked him down and ran out with the clothes on my back and never returned. Filed papers two days later and he never contested it."

Marshall couldn't quite banish the image of a young Mary being thrown into a wall and beaten by a grown man. It raised all of his protective hackles even though it had happened over twenty years ago. He must've tensed up or uttered some profanity, because she reached up to smooth his forehead.

"It happened a long time ago, Marshall. Nothing to get worked up over."

He took a deep breath, "So what was he doing in your dream?" Trying to focus on the here and now.

"I was trying to run from Raph…well, crawling actually, and Mark was coming at me and I was trying to apologize…" she trailed off.

"It wasn't your fault." he was massaging the back of her neck in comfort.

"I push and I push, Marshall. Just can't leave things alone until I pick at them and they bleed. I pushed Mark, I pushed Raph…I even literally pushed Mario. If I'd just learn to let things be, maybe my life would be better. Hell, everyone's life would be better." She choked up a bit as the darkness and comforting arms loosed her emotions.

Marshall rolled her onto her back and propped himself up on one elbow to look down on her face. His was serious and concerned.

"You push because you need to know the truth, or you need someone else to know the truth. You're not happy with lies or innuendos, you want to know where you stand and who stands with you. That's who you are." He gently traced her eyebrows and jawline, "People aren't used to that kind of honesty and they react poorly sometimes. You just aren't bothered by what they think and that's why they blame you for their actions."

Mary watched him as she thought about what he said. It was true, most of the time, "Sometimes I just push to hurt…push to get away."

He gave her a small smile, "Everyone does that. It's a defense mechanism for when we get hurt first. Look at us for those weeks before you got shot. It was a giant shove match if I remember correctly."

She had to concede that one to him. There were many words of anger traded and feelings hurt.

"But you never turn on me. Even when I'm awful to you and push all your buttons on purpose. Why?" She lay very still as she watched the emotions play across his face. His eyes slid away from hers as he was quiet for a time. Mary was pushing and didn't even know it.

Marshall battled with himself. He needed to be honest with her, but he didn't want to scare her. Didn't want to shatter this new and fragile state of being that held such promise. Knowing the word would shutter too many openings, he suddenly remembered a conversation they had in the hospital and smiled as he met her eyes again.

"Because of…not despite." Not giving her anytime to respond or think too much, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Mary was immediately distracted from her thoughts by Marshall's lips playing across hers, but a small part of her mind sat up and said, "_Oh!_" with revelation of his feelings for her. She took that and turned it into the depth of the kiss.

The kisses were slow and deep and Mary's hands gripped Marshall's hair until she wanted more and moved them to burrow under his shirt. His skin was warm and the softness of his chest hair was erotic against her palms. He moaned against her mouth and moved one leg between hers to get closer but remained propped up on his elbow so none of his weight was on her. His other hand was tangled in her hair, and he pulled away from her mouth to slowly trail kisses down her jaw and onto her neck as he murmured short phrases.

"We can't do this…oh, God, you taste good…we have to wait until you're healed…dammit, you taste good…"

Mary moaned with the feel of his lips on her neck and his thigh against hers, but had to chuckle at his indecision, "You're having a hard time making up your mind, Cowboy."

He came back up to kiss her hard and long and she pulled at his hip to try and bring him closer. Attempting to raise her hips to meet his, she met with her own limitations and caught her breath with the frisson of pain.

Marshall felt her flinch and he softened his kiss before pulling away to stroke her cheek and catch his breath.

"Mare…God, I want you so badly. I want this," he ran his thumb over her lips, "…and I want this," tracing his fingers down her throat and across her collar bone as she sighed, "…I want this," his hand glided down over her breast and gently onto her abdomen and Mary sucked in a breath, "…and this." His eyes were dark and intense as his hand trailed up the inside of her thigh and traced teasingly over her groin to end up resting low on her hip. He was breathing hard and Mary whispered, "Marshall…" as she tried to pull him closer again but he didn't budge.

"I'm a selfish bastard, Mare," Marshall continued with a sly grin, "I want all of you, and I want you to have all of me, but we have to wait until you're healed. I won't be satisfied with little bits and pieces, and I certainly would feel bad if I had all the fun and you had to wait."

"I don't mind waiting," Mary replied as she lightly ran her nails over his nipples to watch him groan, "and I think I'd like to watch you have fun." She never expected Marshall to be so sensual and intense. It was wonderful.

"You're a tempting wench, but I'm going to call this one." He flopped onto his back with a tortured sigh and caught her hands as he quickly analyzed their destination. She had to laugh as he brought her captured wrists up to tuck under his arms, trapping her against him.

He was looking at her with such an expression of affection that she sobered and rested her head on his chest to just stare at him.

"I couldn't stand the thought of hurting you if I got carried away, Mare…or you hurting yourself. I'm not going anywhere and I don't think you are either."

"No," she softly replied, "I think I'm where I plan to stay."

Marshall took a deep breath and released her hands to scoot her up closer and Mary got comfortable against his side. The mutual agreement to wait made, they both relaxed into each other as their breathing slowed and eyes fell shut. Content and comforted, they slept wrapped together until morning and the dreams were kept at bay.

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***** Whew...there was a lot to write there. Everybody caught up on the players in the game?? Let me know if you have questions! Marshall is so smart about Mary...what a sweetie. Please keep me well fed with REVIEWS!! *****


	27. It Would Never Get Out

***** All I can say is, the shit is going to hit the fan! Just when it all seems to be running smoothly too. sigh. *****

* * *

I've got a secret I can't explain  
And all the time I've waited for this day  
All along I was never in doubt  
I always knew it would never get out  
There are things that I cannot tell  
And there are things that you know damn well  
This is getting very hard for me

--- Secret, OMD

**

* * *

**

She was sure it was going to hurt, and tensed up as the nurse gently plucked the first staple from her skin.

"Um…you can relax, Mary, it's out." the young woman teased her, "Can I do more now?"

Mary felt a little foolish as she hadn't even felt a tickle with the proficient removal. She was adamant with the nurse that the woman should do one at a time and ask permission for the next one.

"Oh. Yeah, that was completely painless. Go ahead and do all of them."

Marshall had brought her to her follow up appointment to have her staples removed, eight days after they had been put in…a little over three weeks after getting shot. The sutures in her back were falling out on their own, and the nurse picked a few stubborn pieces free, but pronounced her wound 'beautiful' before allowing Mary to redress. Mary had been looking at it in the mirror over the last day or two, and was impressed with the plastic surgeon's work. She would barely have a noticeable scar with only a small area of ridging where the bullet actually exited. The abdominal wound was much more obvious, but now with the staples removed it looked far more tame and less ugly. Just a red line with little dots tracing down her middle to curve around her belly button and fade at her pantyline.

It didn't bother her too much, and she was sure Marshall could care less. Even after only four days of allowing his touch, Mary knew he liked her ass the best anyway and smiled at the thought. Any time they embraced, his hands slowly found their way to her bottom and she found that she liked it. Raph had been a breast man and hardly ever paid attention to other parts of her. Mary had a feeling Marshall would spend plenty of time exploring every nook and cranny of her body, and a little shiver of anticipation shimmied up her spine.

"_Screw the laws of physics_," she grumped to herself, "_I need to heal right now_."

Her partner had the patience of Job and she had the libido of a sixteen year old boy. Not a good match for the time being, but they were managing. She had slept in his bed the past two nights without preamble, a mutual agreement to spend the nights tangled with each other. They indulged in easy and slow kisses and soft caresses, but both were aware of their limits of self control and knew when to call it quits. Mary had tried to cajole him into letting her please him, but Marshall insisted on waiting until she could play the game too. She couldn't decide if he was honorable or masochistic.

It was harder for Mary as she had never held herself back sexually, even as a teen. Her motto had been 'go for the gusto' and she had never changed it much. The only thing she held hard and fast to was monogamy. One man at one time. Not so much for an emotional reason as a physical precaution, and if she found her playmate dipping his wick elsewhere while also with her, she always walked. Cautious on the double front…a condom **and** the pill. That reminded her that she needed to get back on the pill and she put it on her mental to-do list, sure that her supply at her house had gone up in smoke with just about everything else.

She and Marshall had spent hours at her house the last two days, searching for anything salvageable, and they had invited Jinx and Brandi to join them the second day. Her sister and mother cried almost the whole time and Mary's nerves were frazzled by the end of the encounter. In addition to the stress of seeing her belongings destroyed, Mary was aware of the CSI team bagging many items and the protection detail of two extra Marshals who seemed to follow them around. She was sure that was Stan's idea, but tolerated the pair as she and Marshall knew them and the interaction was easy and casual. She thought it would feel odd to be guarding her own colleagues and felt a little sorry for the two men.

Mary was finally able to get back into the office, unofficially, as Marshall's witnesses needed tending to and she was too bored to stay at the house and watch TV. It gave her an excuse to catch up on emails and on her own witnesses' lives, and she also took some time to reconnect with Eleanor. The woman was genuinely pleased to see her and they bantered back and forth as they reestablished their rapport.

"He keeps checking on you, even though you're right here." Eleanor leaned in to mutter in Mary's ear as she brought the younger woman her phone messages.

Mary was wary and kept her voice casual, "He's a bit of a worry wart. I could totally freak him out if I got up and left right now while he's stuck on that call."

"He cares about you, Mary. Don't toy with him." Eleanor scolded.

"He doesn't want to break in a new partner. I've spoiled him for any other woman." Mary grinned evilly and enjoyed the look on Eleanor's face. She wasn't sure how to take Mary's comment and Mary was happy to remain mum.

Marshall saw them talking and looking at him and watched surreptitiously. Seeing the cunning expression on Mary's face, he pointed a warning finger at her with a stern look and both women laughed. Many a man has learned when to retreat in the face of such obvious danger, and Marshall wisely just turned back to his computer screen with the phone tucked to his shoulder.

The progress on the case was slow and tedious. Bobby's friends in Vice were dragging their feet in getting him any surveillance tapes of Dominic's crew and known buys, Finck was not finding any new information among the reams of FBI data he had confiscated, and Stan and his Inspectors were stuck with digging through their already tattered information yet another time.

Mary was tired, achy and frustrated. She had probably been pushing herself a little too hard after getting the all clear for most normal activities from her doctor today. She still wasn't allowed to drive or shoot for another two weeks, but she could now lift up to fifteen pounds, climb stairs and do housework. Thinking about those things for a minute, Mary decided being cleared for normal activity didn't seem so exciting after all. She had asked the doc about sex and was disappointingly told that had to wait too…another two weeks and then she'd have to see if she could tolerate it. Mary had never used the words 'tolerate' and 'sex' in a sentence together before, and didn't plan to anytime soon. Now cranky and deciding she wanted to go home, she pushed her pile of papers towards the middle of the conference table.

"Okay, Jesus, this is getting old. We're not making any progress and I'm just succeeding in getting everyone mixed up at this point."

Marshall, distracted as he wrote notes, replied to her literally, "If you start at the top, we have Manuel and Cruz, our brothers in crime…"

"Shut your hole, Marshall. I wasn't asking for a tutorial," Mary glared at her partner as he looked up at her with raised eyebrows, "I meant I was done going through this shit again. I want to go home."

"Well, I'm not ready to go home. Do you need something to eat? Are you tired?" He noticed it was dinner time and that his partner had become particularly irritable in the last hour.

His questions rubbed her the wrong way for some reason and she snapped at him, "What am I…five? Feed me and put me down for a nap and I'll be out of your hair?"

"Would it work?" he drawled with a frown in her direction.

"Children," Stan interjected from the end of the table, "let's play nice, shall we? Mary, if you want to go back to Marshall's, I can call Marty and George to take you and stick around until Marshall goes home." he referred to the other team of Marshals assigned to Mary.

Marshall looked at Stan questioningly and Stan waylaid the protest, "They're perfectly capable of watching out for her, Marshall. Two of them equal at least one of you. Don't be insulting."

"They don't know her. You have to watch her closely…she's tricky."

"Sitting right here, assholes." Mary glared at her boss and partner in disbelief at the conversation.

The two men continued to ignore her as they negotiated her release, "They'll do fifteen minute sight checks and alternate with door surveillance." Stan offered.

"Ten minute sight checks and twenty minute perimeter sweeps." Marshall countered.

Stan thought about it as Mary watched like a tennis match. "Done." he finally said, and gathered his files to go call the team.

Mary slid her chair back with narrowed eyes as she fumed at her partner, "Yeah, you're done all right." She stalked out of the room and flipped a comment over her shoulder, "You're gonna sleep alone too."

Stan shot Marshall an alarmed look, and the younger man showed no reaction to Mary's comment other than to drawl, "I'd be more afraid if she actually threatened to sleep **with** me." he shuddered for good measure, and Stan laughed as his fears were allayed.

Marshall dropped his pen as soon as Stan cleared the doorway and rubbed his face as he tried to decide whether to laugh or strangle Mary. She must be tired to have tossed that brick into the room without realizing it, and it took every fiber of his being to show no reaction and come up with a witty comment to sidetrack Stan. He also hoped she didn't mean it.

Mary almost stopped dead in her tracks when she realized what she had said. "_Christ on a bike,_" she thought frantically, "_I hope Marshall was able to cover!_" She definitely needed some rest if she had become that mentally sloppy, and wandered to her desk to gather her things while Stan made his call. Looking through the windows into the conference room while Stan was in his office, she caught Marshall's eye and he gave her a look that spoke volumes. Mary mouthed, "_I'm sorry_" with a shrug and contrite look, and he just shook his head in exasperation as he went back to his files.

Leaning against the wall by the elevator, Stan and Mary chatted quietly while they waited for her escorts.

"How are you doing, Mary? Are you pushing too hard?" Stan knew his Inspector.

She gave him a small smile, appreciating his concern, "Probably. But I really do feel like I'm getting a lot better every day. Still have the endurance of a fat, two pack a day smoker, but I'm able to walk around the block at a normal pace now and don't have to take two naps anymore."

He smiled, "Just down to one?"

"It tends to take **me** rather than I deciding to take **it**. Marshall finds me asleep in the oddest places." Mary recalled her little nap at the kitchen counter looking through the newspaper the other day.

Stan was satisfied that Mary was actually taking the recovery process seriously, and as the elevators opened to present Marty and George, he wished her a restful night and would see her tomorrow. She saluted him and he chuckled.

Eleanor also took her leave shortly after, and the office was quiet except for Stan and Marshall's continued powwow in the conference room. Stan's phone rang, and Finck was on the line with some new information. Hooking up to the speakerphone, Marshall was included and Finck told him he was sending some files to his laptop.

"We got a strange hit off evidence from Mary's house." Finck informed the men.

"Strange how?" asked Marshall.

"Strange as in I'm not sure what it means."

"Well, hand it over so we can play too." Stan demanded.

"You know we have the mystery prints from Chuck's house in Jersey and the little barrio house here in Albuquerque. The CSI team ran a variety of items for prints from Mary's house due to protocol for the arson investigation and attempted murder. We got a match." His announcement was followed by silence as Marshall and Stan looked at each other in confusion.

"The mystery man's prints, and we can probably assume these are Damien's prints, showed up at Mary's house?" Marshall wanted to be clear on the subject.

"Yes."

Stan shrugged as his mind found plausible solutions, "If they pulled it off the glass from the cocktails it just means he was in that car, or he could've been in her house when he was digging for information on her over the last few months."

That made the most sense to Marshall and he nodded.

"That's what I thought too, but it was significant enough to bring to your attention," Finck continued, "Also, we think we have a little more information on Damien and his movements. I sent you a file with a couple of grainy pics that may be of him. Hard to tell as they're poor quality."

Marshall's phone vibrated with a text message, and he saw it was Mary. Checking it quickly, he had to smile.

"_Back on the ranch, Cowboy. Sorry for earlier. I'll make it up to you…might even let you get to second base._"

His smiled slowly faded as he stared at the words on the screen, and his silence and stillness captured Stan's attention.

"Hold up a second, Finck." Stan watched Marshall mouth some words, "Marshall? What's going on?"

His Inspector shot him a stunned look as he whispered, "second base…", then he was up and pulling through the files while muttering, "oh my god…oh fuck…"

Stan was standing now too and getting nervous. He didn't know what Marshall was doing, but he'd rarely seen him this manic, "Marshall, talk to me. What did you think of?"

"Finck," Marshall barked into the phone, "what items in Mary's house did they find those prints on." The tall man had pulled a few papers together and stood with his palms on the table, focused on the wood as he waited for Finck's answers. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach.

"Uh…", they could hear Finck tapping at his keyboard, "A countertop, the back doorknob, a doorframe and two drinking glasses."

"Who cases a house and stops to get a glass of water, Stan?" Marshall asked rhetorically, his voice low and mean, "No one. No one does that."

He pushed papers at his boss one by one with a running commentary.

"Fifteen months ago, Damien appears on the scene. He's in Jersey on and off. Nine months ago FBI agents are assassinated and Chuck is kidnapped and Mary is outed as a Marshal. Nine months ago Damien moves to Albuquerque. Within the last two months, Day finds out Mary is WITSEC. The hit at Mary's house happened soon after we had all gone back inside from being out back at the pool. Damien's prints are on Mary's drinking glasses."

Stan knew he was missing something, and looking at Marshall's pinched and pale face, he knew it was significant, "Help me out, Marshall."

"Mary started dating Raph fifteen months ago. Raph was nowhere to be found when she was kidnapped. Mary told Raph she was WITSEC about two months ago after they were engaged. Raph lives at Mary's house. Raph left the pool at Mary's house ten minutes before the hit." The information was given in a hoarse whisper and Stan knew the color had drained from his face also.

"Fuck!" Stan hit the table and Finck shouted into the phone.

"What? What the hell is going on?"

"Where are those files, Finck?" Marshall demanded.

"They should be there." the Agent responded, and Marshall saw he had new email. Opening the files, his pulse was racing and his brain was pleading with the universe that his theory was all wrong. The ramifications would be unthinkable. Slowly, the computer scrolled the pixilated picture and Marshall ran his hands through his hair as he kicked the chair, "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

It was a poor quality, grainy picture of Raphael Ramirez.

Stan was on the phone to Marty as Marshall called Mary. He didn't know what he was going to tell her, but he just wanted her to be warned of some kind of danger. She didn't pick up, and he left a terse message to call him. He dialed Dershowitz next while filling in Finck.

"Damien's pseudonym is Raphael Ramirez. He's posing as a Dominican ball player, now car salesmen, here in Albuquerque. He was dating Mary for a while, and they were engaged for a short time the last few months. He said he was leaving for home while she was still in the hospital, but showed up at her house two days ago right before the hit." Dershowitz then answered his phone and Marshall asked him to hold on a sec while he finished with Finck, "Get over to my house, Finck. We'll convene there and Mary is there."

Marshall relayed the short version to Bobby D., "Jesus H. Christ, Marshall! Are you sure?" Bobby hissed into the phone.

"Yes. Get your ass over to my house. We're on our way."

Turning back to Stan, Marshall stood still as the man's body language screamed highly upset.

"What?" he asked, feeling ill again.

"I can't get a hold of Marty or George." Stan and Marshall's eyes met and they were running for the door.

* * *

***** Oh, you knew it was going to be bad! Mary has no idea. Did you like that twist? Yeah or nay...let me know *hint: REVIEW*. Stay tuned! *****


	28. How You've Betrayed Me

***** This chapter is pretty brutal and vicious, as I imagined it would be. If you don't like violence, then please consider not reading it. I'll be happy to give you a summary if you PM me. Hang on...*****

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It never was and never will be  
You don't know how you've betrayed me  
And somehow you've got everybody fooled

--- Everybody's Fool, Evanescence

* * *

"Hello, querida."

Mary spun around with the words and stared at Raphael in utter confusion as he stood just inside Marshall's backdoor by the laundry room. Holding the small pile of folded clothes, she felt a twinge of unease as his stance and expression were slightly off.

"Raph, what the hell are you doing here? And why did Marty let you in?" Mary's brain was spinning and not coming up at any answers that made sense.

"I didn't mean to scare you Mary," back were the puppy dog eyes and apologetic gestures and Mary's eyes narrowed as she got pissed and stepped towards him threateningly.

"Get the hell out. There's nothing you have to say that I want to hear."

He moved so fast she had no time to react. Raphael backhanded her so hard she tumbled into the kitchen, landing on her back with laundry strewn everywhere. Mary's ears were roaring and she tried to catch her breath as scrambled thoughts flew through her brain. She heard his voice crow in triumph and the pieces of the puzzle were finally put together.

"God! I wanted to do that for so long!" the man was walking towards her.

Fifteen months ago she met Raph in a bar. He would be gone on and off as he tried out for major league spots. The man was nowhere to be found during the day of her kidnapping and for a few days after that. The drugs that disappeared from the suitcase. The planted bug that was used to attempt to frame her. Pushing her for the engagement. She told him about WITSEC. Leaving to go home to his mother when the whole operation went haywire. Leaving the backyard right before the hit.

"Damien." She gasped as he stood over her with a smile.

He kicked her viciously in the thigh and smiled wider with her yelp, "Never could say you were a dumb blonde, could I?" The accent was gone and his posture and expression were nothing of what she knew.

**** **** ****

Marshall and Stan reached Marshall's neighborhood first and they piled out of the car a block away, racing quietly through the shadows to approach Marshall's yard. Looking for any sign of the other Masrhals, they continued to creep closer to the back door. Marshall put his hand on Stan's arm as he noted a dark lump near the trash cans, and upon closer investigation, the two men were angered to see it was Marty's body. His throat had been slit, and they assumed George had met with same fate.

Marshall was trying not to hyperventilate, and all his energy was put into listening for any sound in the house to let him know Mary was still alive. They suddenly heard a crash and then a howl from a male, and he and Stan hastily continued to track to the back door. Opening it silently, the two men crept into the house on the hunt.

****

Damien reached down for her and Mary threw a right hook that connected solidly with his nose as she rolled away to try and get to her feet. If he wanted a fight, he was going to get one, she promised herself as she shoved all the pain from her gut to the back of her mind. She was acting on pure instinct as her rational brain could not catch up in order to reconcile what she was seeing and feeling.

"Fucking bitch!" he spat, surprised by her accuracy and strength. Damien had underestimated the woman. Lunging at her, he grabbed her by the neck and threw her into the cabinets as he held his broken nose with the other hand.

Mary was able to catch herself as she hit the cabinets, but still went down to the floor again with the force of the throw. She tasted blood in her mouth and it fueled her desire to inflict pain on this man who deceived her and now thought he would kill her. She stayed on her knees and watched him out of the corner of her eye as he again approached her. Waiting until he was close, she kicked out sideways with one foot and was rewarded by a solid connection with his right knee. Scrambling to her feet as he howled and hopped backwards, Mary stumbled out of the kitchen with her gun as her destination.

Unbeknownst to Mary, Damien's knee injury earlier in the year had been real, and the blow to the damaged joint was momentarily stunning and crippling. But the man had not survived this long in a pack of dogs by being slow or succumbing to injury, and he was limping after the fleeing woman before she had gotten far, angrier than he should be.

She heard his curses from behind her and was chanting "no…no…" as he caught her in a tackle and they went down to the floor together. Mary hit her head on the corner of the hallway baseboard, and the lightning flash of pain disoriented her for a moment. Long enough for Damien to flip her over and hit her in the face twice.

Mary shoved her palm into his already broken nose while she ground her other thumb into his Adam's apple. Damien grunted and reared back, allowing Mary to pull a knee up and connect with his groin. Enough of his weight was shifted off of her that she was able to scrabble backwards away from him and turn to again make her way to the front hall for her gun.

She had not yet gained her feet when her left ankle was grabbed and she was viciously yanked back down to the floor as Damien crawled on top of her. Mary grabbed the leg of the end table as he held her face to the floor with his hand fisted in her hair, and she could feel his breath on ear.

"Fifteen months of you. Fifteen months of wanting to kill you in your sleep," yanking her head back so hard she yelped, and he smiled, "You know what made the whole thing worth it? Do you?"

Damien ground his hips against her as his hand gripped her ribcage, ""You were a fucking good lay, Mary."

Mary flashed back to the basement and she whispered, "Raph…" through swollen lips in order to try to connect with him and stop this from happening. Terror took over, and she pulled the end table swiftly towards her, effectively flipping it over so it toppled onto them and startled Damien enough to loosen his grip, but he didn't let go.

Mary rolled and kicked at him while grabbing the wrist of the hand in her hair as he untangled himself from the table. Raging now, Damien twisted his fist in her hair and dragged her to him, "I think we'll take a walk down memory lane, Mary. Have a little fun." He stood, then started to drag her struggling form towards the back rooms.

"Let her go." The words contained steel, and the voice fell heavily into the now silent room.

Marshall and Stan had entered the house to hear a struggle within the next room. As they stealthily moved forward, they could hear the words Damien spoke to Mary and Marshall's veins ran with ice. The men slipped into the front room as Damien stood and both assumed a firing stance.

Marshall took in the scene before him as he spoke, and it only infused him with rage. A bloody and crazed looking Damien gripped Mary by the hair as she held onto his wrist and teetered on her knees. Even with her head slightly bent downward, Marshall could see the blood on her face and her eyes met his from under her eyebrows. She wordlessly projected fear and anger, and he wanted to pull the trigger.

"Marshall." Damien hissed, "How sweet." He swiftly pulled Mary up in front of him as a shield before either man could get off a shot, "Here to rescue your damsel in distress."

Mary knew to be still now. If Marshall could take a shot, he would, but if she was moving, her partner wouldn't risk hitting her. She could see Stan slowly inching around to the side, but kept her gaze trained on Marshall as she watched for any signal he would give her, "Shoot him, Marshall." she whispered, letting him know she was ready.

Damien was recognizing the peril of his position as the haze of his anger faded. He heard Mary instruct Marshall and shook her head as he growled in her ear, "Shut the fuck up!" Trying to keep her between him and the two men moving in the room.

Marshall knew Mary was trying to give him a line of sight, but Damien held her so close and kept his head tucked next to hers, and he had nothing to aim for that wouldn't risk the captive woman. Taking a cue from Stan, he slowly began to side step. Damien wouldn't be able to protect his flank from both angles, and he would have to either move as the Marshals came around his sides or take a bullet.

Backing slowly towards the hallway, Damien waited until he was almost stepping into the hall to make his move. Awkwardly throwing a suddenly limp Mary at Stan, Damien spun to sprint towards the safety of the back rooms. He was nowhere near fast enough.

Mary had felt the man holding her tense, and she sagged slightly to throw him off balance. She was flung into the front room, but fell immediately to the floor in order to expose Damien to both Stan and Marshall. Four shots were fired in quick succession, and she saw Damien go down as he tried to flee down the hallway. She closed her eyes in relief and lay still.

Marshall approached the downed man carefully, but noted no movement, and he toed him over onto his back. Four shots…two to the neck and two to the chest…all his. Damien would not be getting back up. Stan stood next to him and holstered his unfired weapon while he addressed his Marshal.

"He was yours," placing his hand on Marshall's forearm to prompt the man to holster his weapon, "Go get Mary."

She lay in a heap, and Marshall knelt next to her to put his arms around her shoulders as he spoke.

"Hey, Mare. Come here, babe."

Mary crawled into his arms without opening her eyes, and Marshall just gathered her up to smooth her hair while he rocked her gently. She didn't want to see anyone…didn't want to speak to anyone…just wanted to be held and comforted. She was aware of more voices in the room as Dershowitz and Finck arrived on the scene, and tucked her head further into Marshall's chest.

Her body throbbed, her face ached and tears now fell as she understood the depth of Damien's betrayal. She felt dirty and used, and was furious with herself for her blindness. She heard Marshall speaking with Bobby.

"She needs a bus." her partner informed him.

"No." Mary muttered into his jacket as she pushed herself up. She did not want to go anywhere.

Marshall gently grasped her jaw to see her face and studied her injuries. Dershowitz sucked in a breath at the split and bruised lips, lacerated eyebrow and redness of soon to be bruising. Mary slid her eyes to the side as she didn't want to look at either of them.

"It looks like he threw her around some too, and I'm not taking any chances." Marshall nodded at Bobby despite Mary's initial refusal. Dershowitz pulled out his cell phone and stood as Marshall tucked Mary back into him.

"I can't believe she held him off for that long," Finck shook his head as he walked over to Stan, "the man's a killer. That's what he does."

Marshall thought of an abandoned girl and of fist fights. Chains in a basement and swinging shovels. A hand reaching for a breathing tube and tackles in a hail a bullets.

"She's a survivor. That's what **she** does." Marshall quietly replied. He watched tears run down her face as she lay in his arms, but she didn't open her eyes…didn't speak…and he prayed his words would still hold true this time.

With encouragement, he was able to get her up and move her over to the couch to wrap a blanket around her, but he was reluctant to release her as he sensed her withdrawl. Instead of the defiant, glaring Mary he had seen during the fray, Marshall now held a limp and quiet woman who wouldn't even answer anyone's questions. He could only imagine what was going through her mind, but knew it wasn't good.

"It's not your fault, Mare. You didn't know…no one knew. He played us all." he murmured in her ear.

"I don't want to go to the hospital, Marshall." Mary couldn't stand the thought of the lights and people and questions right now.

He could hear the approaching sirens of the ambulance and additional police, and knew there was about to be a fuss made over his partner. Marshall realized Mary must feel like an abuse victim, beaten and violated by someone she thought she could trust, and he now understood her uncharacteristic shutdown. Shock mixed with fear and embarrassment. He couldn't force her to go to the hospital knowing he wouldn't be able to go with her. They were going to need him here for the initial investigation into the shooting.

"Will you let the EMTs take care of you here…let them check you out?" he asked.

The possible promise of remaining prompted her to sit up away from him and take a deep breath. If he was going to concede to her wishes, the least she could do is pull herself together. Smoothing her hair back with shaking hands, she looked at him with a glimmer of strength.

"Yeah…I can do that. I just don't want to leave."

Marshall rubbed one of her cold hands between his warm ones, "There's going to be a lot of questions, you know that."

She knew he was telling her it was going to take a while to put everything away tonight. His way of asking her if she was going to make it through.

"I'll be okay." She frowned as she looked at the three other men in the room, "Where's Marty and George?"

He didn't say anything, and Mary turned back to him to see the expression of angry sadness as he squeezed her hand. The tears came again as she could only blame herself for their deaths, "That fucking bastard," she whispered with a sob. Marshall held her for a few minutes more until the ancillary personnel arrived, then moved aside so she could get some medical attention.

It took hours to appease all the investigators and agencies involved in the case as they sent their own liaisons to the scene. Mary was pronounced sound, just battered and bruised with some steri-strips to the cut over her eye from the baseboard. Marshall, Stan and Bobby took turns checking on her as she remained on the couch, each spending some time talking quietly with her or bringing her a glass of water. She no longer looked stunned and fragile, but her hands continued to shake and her expression remained flat.

Mary watched the stretcher that carried Damien's body out of the house. She didn't know the man who had attacked her, and mourned the loss of the other man who may not have been perfect for her, but had been her friend.

There was nothing in Damien's voice, movements or personality that remotely resembled Raphael, and she truly wondered how someone could have two completely different personas. Wracking her brain, she could not think of a single time Raph had acted off key or had lost his accent. Never had she seen him out of character…not even during sex or when he was awoken. Damien had utterly embraced the man she called Raphael, even extending the charade to include her family and friends. It was frightening and humbling that she was so completely taken in. It made her sick to her stomach.

She replayed the attack over and over in her head, and just knew she was lucky to be alive. He had only toyed with her once and all his other moves were solely to inflict pain and injury. He was going to kill her, and if she had hesitated or shown him leeway he would've succeeded. Thank God for training and a mean streak.

The knuckles on her right hand were now swollen and throbbing, and she rubbed them with a wince. A hand touched her shoulder and Mary flinched right off the couch, whirling to meet the threat. She let out a breath and closed her eyes as she saw it was her partner.

Marshall had watched her follow the stretcher out with her eyes. She looked sad, frightened and pissed at the same time, and he was pretty sure he understood. The man he saw tonight dragging his partner through the room was no one he knew. There was a fundamental difference between Damien and Raph that could not be fully explained by a clever cover persona. Marshall suspected a highly progressed psychological disorder.

He considered himself a good observer of people and their behaviors, had to be with the job, and there was not a single time he had seen a glimmer of something off in Raphael Ramirez except for that day in the backyard. He wondered if Damien and Raphael even knew each other, the personalities only meeting briefly as one slid into the other.

Now noticing Mary massaging her hand with a grimace, Marshall walked over to rub her shoulder. He jumped as she jumped off the couch, and he held his hands in front of him non threateningly as she spun to confront him with a flash of fear, and then sighed in relief as she recognized him.

"I'm sorry, Mare. I should've let you know I was there." He knew she would be jumpy and didn't know why he didn't think of that.

"I guess I'm a little on edge still." she sent him a small, forced smile, "How's everything coming along? Are they almost done?"

Marshall guided her back to the couch as he noted her sway a bit while she stood, "Stan and Bobby are wrapping up with Albuquerque PD now and Finck just left. Maybe twenty minutes…half hour?"

She nodded, then looked at him with concern, "Are you okay? I didn't even ask…I'm sorry."

He reached out to tenderly touch her bruised cheek, "Gee…I don't why that would've been low on your priority list." grinning as the words were teasing, "I'm fine, but I'm worried about you."

She wasn't convinced, "You had to shoot someone you knew, Marshall. That's not going to be fine."

His face got hard as his gaze became distant, "I didn't know the man I killed, Mary."

"No…I didn't either."

They sat quietly for a few minutes as their thoughts returned to the 'what ifs' and 'whys'. Then Marshall shook himself and patted her knee as he stood, "I'm going to hurry those two vagrants out of here so we can get you cleaned up and to bed. You good for a little while longer?" waiting for her nod before moving away.

Forty five minutes later, Mary eased her bruised and battered body into a hot bubble bath with many winces and a giant sigh. Marshall had made sure she had plenty of hot water, and she just had to chuckle at the ridiculous container of bubblebath he owned. It was huge, and the cap was a little bumblebee. He had the good grace to look slightly abashed when she commented on it. The bubbles were divine, though, and she allowed her muscles to slowly relax as she rested her head on a folded towel to close her eyes.

Try as she might, she could not keep the images of the fight from flitting through her mind like a bad roll of film. Jumpy and non-sequential, she could almost feel the blows again and the remembered desperation tightened her gut. Damien's words cut deep, and Mary thought of all the nights he spent in her bed…in her body…and shuddered.

She had slept with men who only wanted one thing before, but that was because the intent was clear and she had been fine with it. This was different…violating in some way that she couldn't put her finger on. It would be one thing to think there was actually some part of the man that cared for her, or even liked her, but Damien's words made it very clear he was using her from beginning to end with no other purpose.

Suddenly, there weren't enough bubbles to get clean, and Mary washed herself head to toe multiple times, then sat with her knees drawn up to her chin and sobbed until the water cooled, then just sat.

Marshall knocked on the door and called to her, "Hey…did you drown in there?" Not receiving an answer, he was slightly concerned that she may have actually drowned, and opened the door a crack, calling again, "Mare? Are you okay?" Again met with silence and he stuck his head in to check.

She sat in the tub gazing at the wall with her head lying on her knees and her arms wrapped around her shins. He could see goosebumps on her exposed skin, and she shivered slightly with the draft from the open door. Marshall moved to crouch down next to the tub.

"What's going on? Your water's cold and you're freezing. Where did you go?"

Watching her take a deep breath, Marshall waited for an answer, "I can't wash him off." she said softly after a pause.

He closed his eyes as he knew what she meant, and remembered the words he had heard as he and Stan moved through the house to find her earlier. Total betrayal of trust at the most intimate level, and Marshall would've gladly shot the man a thousand times to see him hurt as each bullet carved through him.

Knowing there was nothing he could do but provide comfort, he reached in to flip the drain and empty the water. He lay a towel over her back and rubbed her dry, leaving it there and adding another to her arms and front as she stood so she would be covered. Now cocooned, Mary allowed Marshall to lead her to his bedroom and tuck her towel covered body under the covers so she would get warm. He set her pajamas on the nightstand and told her he was going to make some tea and that she should get dressed when she felt like it. He would wait for her to call him back in.

"Can you make hot chocolate instead?" she asked with a faint smile.

"Of course…what was I thinking?" he teased, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

"I'll be okay, Marshall. It's just a lot at once." reaching out to caress his jaw.

"Of course you will, because I'm going to take care of you." Marshall kissed the palm of her hand before he left for the kitchen.

They sat drinking hot chocolate while Mary gave Marshall the wrong answers to his crossword puzzle. He finally swatted her over the head with the magazine and gave up to go shower. Mary changed, and was asleep before her partner even climbed into the bed. He pulled her close and kissed the back of her neck while he sent up a little prayer of thanks. Too many close calls in too little time, and Marshall was ready for things to settle down. Some time to heal and learn to love.

* * *

***** I know it was harsh...but wouldn't it be?? Finally, though, they're going to get some time to heal. Let's hope they don't screw it up. Anxious to hear reviews on this chapter...I know some will really not like it, but it is what it is. Thank you!! *****


	29. I'll Only Fly Away

***** This one was difficult to write...not the words, but the emotions. They knew it would be small steps. *****

* * *

I'm like a bird, I'll only fly away  
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is

--- I'm Like a Bird, Nelly Furtado

* * *

The night was long and sleep was hard to come by. Mary woke a number of times, either from pain or nightmares, and Marshall seemed to know what she needed each time. He woke to his own demons once or twice, at one point resulting in Mary having to vacate the bed due to his flailing. Despite her assurances, he couldn't apologize enough, and she resorted to flicking him on the nose to make him quit. Mary seemed to finally fall into a deep sleep near dawn, but Marshall was now wide awake, and he disentangled himself from his partner to wander into the kitchen and survey the mess.

He had picked up much of the pieces from the fight, but one of the cabinet doors hung awkwardly on a single hinge and he had missed a few drops of blood near the edge of the tile floor. Staring at the reminders of the violence inflicted on the woman in the other room, Marshall felt another surge of rage at the man responsible…and at himself. It was going to be hard to let go of this feeling of incompetence that had bubbled up inside. How had he missed seeing this happen? Why didn't Raphael ring any of his warning bells? Was it because he tried to ignore the man? Not wanting to see the affection and attention he gave to Mary because it twisted his insides, Marshall had often tuned out their interactions and looked away when they were together. Maybe he should've watched more closely.

Why did he let her go home alone last night? Just because he was stubborn and not wanting to leave the office until he had gone over the very last file, she had suffered. Trying to convince himself that Damien would've just waited for the next opportunity was futile, and Marshall again felt that helplessness he experienced while Mary lay still on the ventilator. He couldn't reverse time for her and make it right, and a tiny part of him birthed a doubt that she may blame him. He knew she would say he got there on time, knew she would thank him…but he also knew it never should've happened.

Stan told him to take a few days off, especially as he was going to be put on short leave anyway until he was cleared in the shooting, so Marshall decided he would spend the time tending to Mary and getting them started on the road to recovery. She wasn't going to want to talk to the shrink, but he found it therapeutic and actually looked forward to making an appointment. He didn't have to filter his thoughts, words or emotions in the small room and sometimes surprised himself as unknown doubts and fears emerged. Mary would have a harder time. Her filters were so ensconced that he doubted she knew how to take them down, and any attempt to circumvent them was viewed as a threat.

Taking a deep breath, Marshall finally spurred himself into action and began to clean the kitchen back to its preferred status. Continuing into the front room, he was glad to have wooden floors. The blood would've been hard to get out of the carpet.

*** *** *** ***

Mary heard the rustling in the hallway and woke with her heart pounding. Eyes wide and focused on the doorway, her breathing was shallow and she felt paralyzed with fear. A state she had not found herself in before. A small, droning noise reached her ears and she suddenly realized it was humming. The quiet voice was recognized as her partner's, and Mary sagged into the bed feeling relieved and defeated. She had woken up too many times in a state of terror last night, and was pretty sure her adrenal glands had run out of juice at this point. Lying quietly as she listened to a slightly off key rendition of a popular song, Mary took stock of herself.

Everything hurt…even her hair this time. Between hitting hard surfaces and being hit, she was covered in bruises big and small, and her left eye didn't seem to open very much. Licking her lips, she felt the small cuts, and her bottom lip was swollen where she must've bitten it. Every breath reminded her of being thrown about, and her abdominal muscles ached with even the thought of movement. A slight shift in the bed confirmed the theory that she would remain where she was for most of the day. Too tired to muster through the pain to walk around. It was a good thing she still had some narcotics left over from the shooting, they would allow her to at least tolerate the hopefully infrequent trips to the restroom. Whatever Marshall was doing must be stirring up dust, because Mary's nose suddenly decided to rebel and she sneezed.

"God damn, son of a bitch!" she yelped as the sneeze was just unkind.

Marshall popped into the doorway, "You called?" he drawled.

Chuckling, he soon sobered as he studied Mary. Her face was bruised with her left eye almost swollen shut. It was scrunched in discomfort right now as she grunted with the force of the sneeze, and as she threw off some of the covers, he could see more bruises on her arms and hands.

Sliding in to sit on the bed next to her, he commented, "I have to tell you, Cowgirl, you look rode hard and put away wet."

"I feel like one of those rodeo clowns that had an unfortunate bull encounter." she slowly rolled onto her back to see him better, "What are you doing out there?"

He shrugged, "Just cleaning up."

Mary dropped her eyes with memories and Marshall tried to change the subject, "Are you hungry? I can make waffles."

Thinking for a minute, she made a face with her reply, "Not really. Just tired and hurting."

"You'll probably want to put something in your stomach if you take any more pain meds." He reached out to smooth her hair away from her face, concerned that she didn't want to eat. That wasn't like her.

She saw his concern and faintly smiled at him, "Well, I could probably nibble on something."

He was up and cooking a minute later and Mary worried about him. He would cater to her every need, she knew, but not take any time to cater to himself. This would be hard on him too. Still frazzled by the shooting, she knew Marshall would blame himself for not being there for her again and over compensate by throwing all his efforts into her recovery. It would only be a matter of time before his walls crashed down and he found himself worn out and depressed, withdrawing into his books and games. Even Mary knew that wasn't a healthy way of dealing with things, although she wasn't any better at it.

"Oh, fuck." she muttered as it dawned on her she would have to see the shrink for this. It was looming from the shooting anyway, and now Stan would completely insist she slog through the full six weeks of treatment. Skipping it wouldn't get her back to work any faster, so Mary actually gave a thought to trying to make it worth something. These new thoughts about Marshall and about relationships could be pretty good fodder, she decided, and she might actually learn something. "_Damien must've hit me in the head one too many times,_" she rationalized, "_I'm actually willing to learn something._" She'd do it for Marshall.

"Hot off the griddle." he announced as he came back in, and Mary squeaked and jumped in surprise.

Putting her head in her hands in exasperation, she ground out, "This has got to stop. I'm jumping at every noise and shadow. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Just hazarding a guess, but 'traumatized-by-a-crazy-ex-fiance-who-was-actually-a-hit-man-and-beat-the-crap-out-of-you' may be a valid excuse for being a bit skittish right now." His raised eyebrow spoke volumes.

He had a point, she concluded, but she just felt…off. Worse than she had after being trapped in that basement. Remembering a line from one of Marshall's favorite movies, she voiced her thoughts, "I feel like that Bilbo guy told that other short guy he felt when he was hiding at his house."

Marshall's brain took a minute to catch up, then he had to smile at the reference. He had possibly corrupted her.

"You mean where he says he feels like butter spread over too much bread?...thin?"

"Yeah. Thin. Like you can you see through me." Mary turned her hands over in front of her as she studied them.

"Exposed." He sat next to her and put the plate of waffles on the nightstand.

Mary pressed her lips together as tears gathered and she nodded, "I just want to hide. That's not like me and I don't understand it."

He didn't know what to say to make it better, but would've paid someone a million dollars to take the look of distress and loss off of her face. This was not the woman he was used to, and Marshall began to suspect the events of the last twenty four hours were going to have a more far reaching effect than he had first believed.

He toed off his slippers and crawled into the bed to position himself behind her and let her back rest against his chest, the waffles forgotten for now.

"What are you doing, nitwit?" She grumbled as he maneuvered into position, but happy to have his solid warmth behind her and his arms around her.

"They say being held in this position makes the person in front feel the safest than any other position. The orientation of the bodies is reminiscent of being in the womb and you are surrounded by reassuring sensations."

Mary tried to stifle a laugh, "Oh my God, Marshall, if you tell me you think about having a womb I'm going to have to reconsider some of the things I want to do to you." She had to admit to being touched by his gesture to make her feel safe, and it was actually working.

Relaxing back into him as he laughed too, Mary closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of contentment. Marshall was lightly massaging her temples into her hairline and she immediately found herself becoming drowsy. His rhythmic breathing translated through her back and she found her body matching his tempo. She rested her hands on his thighs and purred, "Feels good…"

Smiling at her as he felt her relax into him, he delighted in her warmth. Someday this would be a beginning to a whole other way of stress relief, but today it was solely for her comfort. He knew she had fallen asleep as her breathing deepened, so he shifted slightly to get comfortable and decided to follow her lead.

***

Mary had thought the first day would be the hardest, but even a week after escaping from Damien she was still afraid to stay by herself in Marshall's house, jumping at sudden sounds and especially opening doors. There was one day she had a very hard time walking down his hallway to the back bedroom, limbs trembling as her feet touched the spot where Damien fell. A house that once held such comfort and peace now had too many memories of terror and pain.

She still flinched at being touched or approached suddenly, and hated the fleeting look of hurt on her partner's face before he masked it with understanding or humor. The only time she could tolerate hands on her was at night curled up with Marshall. For some reason, those arms around her felt right. He was avoiding embracing her or indulging in casual caresses, and Mary found she missed them, yet feared them. Didn't want to react badly and push him further away.

The case was closed now, Day being found dead in his house in Cozumel four days ago. They suspected Cruz, but Manuel was just as likely and neither had any interest in Mary from what the CIA could discern. They never told Brandi and Jinx about Raph...it was better to let them just think he got to go home. It was a relief, and the Marshal's stress level deflated to near normal, but even Stan and Eleanor could see Mary was off. She had come into the office with Marshall as he filled out forms and interviewed, but didn't talk much and spent most of her time sitting out on the roof staring at the sky.

Marshall was nearly sick with worry. He knew a week was not a lot of time to regain normalcy, but he had seen her bounce back so much more quickly before, and he had never seen this skittish and uncertain woman who startled at a mere door closing or loud whistle. He couldn't imagine her tolerating the shooting range or a simple witness conflict, and wondered if her return to work would take a lot longer than they had planned.

She was withdrawn, but not cranky or antagonistic…as though her world was gray and bleary and she couldn't muster up the energy to inject any color. He knew there was a depression involved, and was happy when she willingly went to see the shrink on day four. She didn't talk about the visit, and he didn't ask, but she rode home with a furrowed brow as thoughts had obviously come to the forefront.

Marshall wasn't sleeping well, his concern for Mary and his own personal doubts and anxieties keeping him from real rest. He found his temper short with Stan, and even snapped at Mary once while driving to the grocery store. The rest of that outing was undertaken in stony silence, and she retreated to the couch as soon as they got home, vibrating with irritation. They made amends eventually, of course, but there was just this wall of discomfort that continued to loom between them. He didn't know what to do, and that now ate at him too.

She had been in the bedroom for about a half hour while Marshall watched a show on the couch, and he was startled as she came up behind him to bend down and gently kiss the side of his neck.

"I miss you." she whispered as she came around to sit on the other end of the couch crosslegged, staring at him with unshed tears.

He had a bad feeling, and shut off the TV to turn and give her his full attention, "I'm right here…all the time."

Mary cast her eyes about and Marshall knew she wanted to say something and was trying to find the right words, "Mare, don't think about it too much, just say it."

"I have to leave." A few tears fell now and Marshall's heart fell with them as he tried to keep his breathing even.

"What do you mean?"

Mary couldn't hardly look at him as the pain and fear were glaring on his face, "I can't stay here, Marshall. I can't heal here…and you can't heal with me here."

Scooting closer so he could hold her hands, he tried to understand, "What's wrong? Am I not giving you something you need? I'm sorry about snapping at you yesterday." Desperately trying to find out what was driving her away so he could fix it.

"It's not you, Marshall. You're wonderful…I couldn't ask for someone to take better care of me than you have." more tears and she reclaimed a hand to brush them away irritably, "I don't want to leave **you**, but I can't move forward here. I'm afraid here and I don't want to be afraid anymore. I can still hear him here and see him in shadows…smell him…" Mary trailed off just shaking her head.

"I didn't know." He would never have guessed she was terrified in the very house she was living in. Stuck here because she had nowhere else to go.

He tried a new tactic, gut unclenching slightly as he though she just needed another place to live, "Where do you want to go? We'll find a place that feels safe for you. You know I'd go anywhere with you."

It ripped her apart as she watched him try to remain calm and reasonable. Knowing she was going to cause him pain.

"Marshall," she started, and the words came haltingly, "I'm empty inside and I don't know where I've gone. I don't recognize this woman I've become, and I certainly don't like her. I have to start fresh…have to take away everything to see what I really have left and begin again with just that." his hands were trembling, and Mary couldn't look away from them, "I depend on you too much, lean on you too much, and I find excuses to let you comfort me rather than to face what I need to face. I'm not a very strong person sometimes, but I have to get back to me without someone else doing my heavy lifting."

Marshall wanted to grab her and shake her, somehow make her come to her senses. Didn't she understand he wanted her to depend on him and lean on him? He wanted to do her heavy lifting, wanted to bear the weight off her shoulders. His chest hurt and he started to speak, only to stop and start again as too many words tried to tumble out at once.

"I'm trying to understand what you're telling me, but I'm a little lost," he felt tears on his face now, "Are you trying to say you need a few days away? A week? Or are you trying to say…" he couldn't finish and leaned forward to take her face in his hands and rest his forehead against hers.

"Mare, I don't want you to leave. Please don't leave." he only had a hoarse whisper left.

"I can't stay." her eyes met his and they mirrored his pain.

Marshall sat back and rested his head on the back of the couch as he angrily wiped at his tears, "So you just run?"

She knew it would appear that way, and tried to explain, "Marshall, look at you. You don't sleep, you don't smile, you are focused on me and you're not taking care of yourself. I can't watch that happen to you, can't be the reason you let yourself disappear. You won't heal yourself if I'm here and you know it." She was intent on her words and leaned forward to urge him to listen, "You are the most important person to me on this planet, and I won't sacrifice you for my own needs."

All of his anger fled with her words as he knew she was right. He was worn down, but would keep going and going without attending to himself in order to fight to make her world right. The deep seated rage and self loathing he knew he had to address kept getting pushed deeper and deeper, and Marshall needed to look at it before it clawed its way to the surface to affect Mary.

She had moved over to take his hand and smoothed his hair back from his forehead as the emotions played across his face. Her words were soft and full of affection.

"You said you would fight for me. That at the end of all this you would stand by my side. Do you remember?"

He opened his eyes to look at her and knew what he saw, knew Mary Shannon loved him and was trying to save him…trying to save herself. He didn't know she had heard him that night…didn't know she had remembered.

"I remember."

"Am I still worth that?"

Leaning forward to kiss her softly, "A thousand times that. I would die for you."

Still tracing his face, Mary sadly smiled, "Then wait for me. Heal yourself and wait for me."

Marshall knew she wasn't leaving him, but he still didn't want her to go, didn't want his heart to miss her, "Just tell me what you need."

She sat back slightly and gave a small chuckle, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"I'll help you find a place." Marshall pulled her to him, and they held each other tightly for a long while.

*** *** *** *** ***

Mary didn't care where she went, so long as it was a place to herself and where she would be able to get anything she needed, but she didn't want to stay in Albuquerque. He ached a little more with that knowledge, but she had promised to write to him everyday. He thought that was quaint and she shrugged to say her shrink told her it would help the recovery process. Marshall indulged her, as he always did, and promised to write back just as much. She didn't know how long she'd be gone, and a small part of him wondered if she'd ever come back. Mary must have sensed his doubt, because she promised to come back…she wouldn't leave him.

They were emotionally exhausted by ten, and decided to call it a night and head to bed. He couldn't sleep with the roiling fears and barely muted feelings of panic. This was Mary, he told himself, she did not come to decisions lightly and once her mind was made up there was turning back for her. She said she'd come back…he had to had to believe that.

Sliding out of the bed after one, Marshall padded down to the study and sat in the recliner perusing his books. Not able to even concentrate on a single title, he picked up his phone and sighed. Sometimes, when things were especially hard and confusing, he still had to call her. Still needed that voice of reason and wisdom to set him on the right track.

The phone rang on the other end for a while until a sleepy woman's voice answered, recognizing the caller ID.

Marshall knew she wouldn't mind being awakened, "Hi Mom, it's me."

* * *

***** Okay, I cried...anyone else? It's the only way she'll get back to being Mary. Please stay with me...the journey is not ended. This is what I write when I listen to Celtic music :) Please REVIEW!*****


	30. Resting My Bones

***** A deep breath. She had to heal once already, and the process doesn't get any faster or easier, but the end goal is set. Healing begins. *****

* * *

Sittin' here resting my bones  
And this loneliness won't leave me alone  
It's two thousand miles I roamed  
Just to make this dock my home

Now, I'm just gonna sit at the dock of the bay  
Watching the tide roll away  
Oooo-wee, sittin' on the dock of the bay  
Wastin' time

--- Sitting by the Dock of the Bay, Otis Redding

* * *

It was perfect. Of course, she didn't really expect it not to be since Marshall had picked it for her. He always chose just the right things at the time, even when she would sneer and jeer at the little gifts he'd try to give her over the years. Sometimes she had even thrown them back at him. Mary would find the offending object sitting on her chair, in a drawer or hanging from her rearview mirror later, and would sigh and take the damn thing home then. She had accrued a small pile of trinkets, but would never let him know she kept them. Obnoxious key chains, a shot glass from Niagara Falls, silly ornaments…all having subtle meanings that would make her chuckle with nostalgia.

Slowly, the smile faded as Mary remembered she didn't have those things anymore. More memories lost in the fire and she closed her eyes for a moment with the knowledge of why she was here. Time to heal…time to move forward.

The cottage was sage green with white shutters, the heavy duty kind for hurricanes, and the door was meringue yellow. Welcoming even from the outside, the natural landscaping of the coastal region only added to her eagerness to explore the inside, expecting coolness and quiet. Marshall's parents had owned the small house since he was a child, and they had offered her the use of it for as long as she wanted to stay. He said they usually spent a few months there during the summers, but it was off season now and the house waited for an occupant.

Mary had been pleased by the subdued nature of the small coastal town on Tybee Island. A popular summer destination, the wedge of land between Savannah and the sea now only housed its full time residents, and they seemed to have all breathed a sigh of relief now that the crowds were gone. The beaches were vast, and there was a great trail of inland rivers and tidal pools to explore within the national park and monument nearby.

She had missed the ocean, she realized as she stood on the front porch and gazed at the sands just under a half mile away. Missed the smell of salt and seaweed and the feel of the breeze that just seemed to have a weight of its own…carrying more than air. She could do without the sand infusing every nook and cranny, but it was a small price to pay for the sounds of the gulls, the faint rushing of waves and the feeling of vastness that demanded stillness.

"_This will do._" She thought with a deep breath as she tilted her face up to the sun, "_I wouldn't even need to go inside._"

The taxi driver was kind enough, and taken enough with her, to carry her bags all the way onto the porch, and Mary picked up her purse to dig out the keys. There were two big, white rocking chairs on the veranda style porch, and she had already decided to eat her first meal sitting and gazing at the sea. A little smile touched the corner of her mouth as the door swung open and she took in her new, temporary home.

Either her partner's mother was a female Marshall, or Marshall was a male Margaret, she decided as she mentally compared the decorating style of the two relatives. Sleek and simple, but with definite female touches, the house was done in shades of yellow and blue with splashes of red and gold. Not quite a nautical theme, but the feel of the ocean and the creatures in its depths were implied. She was drawn to the bookshelves near the door to the kitchen, running her fingers lightly over the collection of shells displayed, remembering running along a beach trying to collect as many as possible to stuff into her pockets before her mom called her to go home. Transported to that world of dreams visited not so long ago. Shaking herself free of the haze, Mary pulled the rest of her bags inside and looked at the larger suitcase quizzically. It was heavier than she remembered when she packed it early that morning. Something to investigate later as there was still a house to explore.

The kitchen was small but cozy and led out onto a screened portion of the veranda with a loveseat and small table. She found the notebook of instructions for opening up the house on the kitchen table and quickly performed the actions so she'd have hot water and heat if she needed it. It was still quite warm during the early fall days, but Mary knew the nights could be chilly along the coast, especially if a storm moved in.

There were two bedrooms off of the main living area, and Mary chose the one with a view towards the water. It was white with yellow accents and a set of red print pictures that she found pleasing. Piling her things on the bed, she again set out to see the rest of the living area and the loft. The bay window had seats built in, the storage under them filled with blankets and beach towels for those impromptu outings that beach people often took. Stairs to the loft called, and Mary remembered Marshall saying he and his brother had spent many a rainy day playing games and slaying dragons up there. It was set up as a small TV room with overstuffed chairs and some shelves for DVDs and CDs. Pictures hung on one wall and she had to go look.

Many stills of lighthouses and sailboats, but there were a smattering of Marshall's family that captured her attention. The four people standing in the surf, Marshall's brother splashing his father as his mother swung the younger Mann through the waves…the parental units posing on the pier…Marshall and Grant building sand castles…Marshall's dad buried in the sand as the two boys struck muscle man poses on top of him…Margaret asleep under a beach umbrella with a sleeping toddler on her chest. More of the same as the boys aged, but the photos of the younger brothers moved her.

Her partner had grown up loved and whole, it seemed, and she wondered how her own brokenness could ever appeal to his hopes and dreams for love and family. The pictures she had lost were painted in sorrow whereas his were radiant and warm…fundamentally different. Dropping her eyes, she saw a framed photo that actually made her laugh. Grant and Marshall running through the waves buck naked with their arms in the air, maybe all of four and six years old. You could only see their little butts, but for Mary it was priceless. Remembering she told Marshall she'd call when arrived, Mary pulled out her phone and dialed.

He answered on the first ring and she realized he must've been waiting for her.

"Hey Cowgirl…all tucked into the new ranch?" she could tell he was forcing himself to be light and casual.

"I love it. It's absolutely wonderful, Marshall. Thank you." suddenly finding herself teary eyed too.

A moment of silence as he probably gathered himself, "I'm glad. So, what are you doing?" trying to keep it on the surface.

She had to smile, "Well, I'm looking at your ass."

"Ummm…what?" Mary could practically hear the gears grinding.

"Your naked ass, to be precise. It's adorable, if you want to know."

Dawning realization, "Oh my God, does she still have that picture framed?"

Mary was chuckling as she took the picture with her down to her bedroom. Somehow wanting it close by, "You know moms…always thinking their little boys are the cutest things on the planet." she only knew this by word of mouth.

"Jesus," he whispered, and she could imagine the chagrinned look on his face.

"How're you doing?" Mary asked as she sat on her bed after opening the window to let in the breeze.

"I miss you." He was honest and to the point.

"I miss you too." She whispered.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the open line a tenuous connection that was enough for now.

"I'm going to check the mailbox tomorrow, you know. You're not going to renege on your promise, are you?" Marshall finally spoke.

"You nitwit," Mary softly chastised him, "tomorrow's Sunday, and I just got here. And you better know I won't break my promise to you…either of them."

"I'll check anyway." He was choked up now and she followed suit.

"I'm on vacation, remember? We're just saying it's a vacation. Why don't you head to Taos for a few days, Marshall? You love it up there…take a vacation yourself." Had to lead him elsewhere than to tears.

She heard him draw in a slow breath as he tried to settle himself, "I might do that. That's not a bad idea. I could spend some manly nature time…not bathe for a week or something."

"You get the heebie jeebies if you can't shower everyday. I imagine you'd go stark raving mad if you stayed dirty for a week."

"Hmmm…I could grow a beard or something" he sounded thoughtful and Mary snorted a laugh.

"Yuh huh."

The silence was back and Mary could envision him sitting on the couch thinking about her and her heart ached. This was going to be so hard.

"Are you going to be okay, Mare? What if you have nightmares? What if…" she cut him off gently.

"Stop." taking a deep breath, "The 'what ifs' are why I'm here. I have to know I can face them myself…so do you." Waiting for him to speak again.

"Jesus, this blows." she could hear the hint of anger.

"Pretty much."

"I'm going to go now because I'm just getting upset, but can I call you? Text you? What are the rules?"

That was more like him, to the letter and wanting policy and procedure. She had thought about this on the plane and tried to find a way to keep contact more on her terms than his. He would bend too far and overcompensate if she allowed him to contact her too much…try to care for her through the phone lines.

"How about once a week? We won't be wondering if we missed a call or something, or waiting by the phone like silly teenagers. Next week this time?" Mary really wanted to tell him to call her every hour.

He didn't like it, but certainly wasn't going to argue, "It's a date."

"I promise to wear my prettiest underwear then." teasing some because he needed to hear it.

"Oh…like I'll sleep now, you evil wench." an actual chuckle this time and Mary smiled.

"Sweet dreams, Cowboy."

"Giddy up." he returned, then ended the call.

Mary stared at the phone for a long while as the breeze ruffled her hair. So many feelings in one big ball of confusion and she hoped to be able to sort them out here. Things she wanted to say but couldn't, things she said that she shouldn't, unspoken promises that didn't quite make sense yet.

*** *** *** *** ***

Marshall stared at the phone for a long while as the pictures on the TV flickered in silence. He almost told her he loved her at the end, but held his tongue for many reasons. He didn't want her to think he wanted her to say it back, didn't want to sound like he was pleading, and he honestly didn't think she was ready to hear it. She knew it, just as he knew the same of her, but voicing it was a big step. Those three words bound you to someone in a way, gave them a tangible piece of you that you could never take back even if they were gone. She didn't have any pieces to give right now, and she was fighting her bonds.

The conversation had gone better than he expected considering he figured words wouldn't actually pass through his lips a couple of hours earlier. Mary hadn't let him take her to the airport because she knew the goodbyes there would be more exposing than either of them would accept. Too much emotion in a public place. Instead, she took a taxi, and they waited together on the front porch just sitting with fingers intertwined as he told her about the cottage and where to find all the things she would need in town. She wouldn't need a car as the house was within a mile or two of most of the stores and amenities. There were also a couple of bikes in the shed out back when she was strong enough to ride.

The taxi arrived and he discreetly badged the driver to make sure he would carry Mary's bags all the way up to the checkout counter at the drop off lane. He made a point of writing the man's name down, satisfied by the man's nervousness that his partner would be taken care of. They shared some kisses already full of loss, and he clung to her a bit as she turned to get in the cab. She had to take his hand and plant a kiss on his palm to get him to release her. Marshall just stood there after the cab had gone, maybe wishing a little for a scene like in the movies when the girl made a u-turn and came back and the music played while the credits rolled and the audience said, "awwwww". Didn't happen.

He thought about Taos now, sitting on the couch as the afternoon aged, and decided he would venture up that way. Get out of this house and away from everything in it and gone from it. Making a face as he could **so** stay dirty for a week despite her claims, Marshall got up to venture into the garage and pull out his boxes of camping paraphernalia. The area by the garbage cans where they had found Marty's body drew his eye and he stopped and stared at the empty ground. Blinking in thought, he slowly looked towards the house and around the yard as an idea began to blossom. Nodding with continued mission to the garage, Marshall now had something to ponder while the coffee brewed over the campfire in the morning.

*** *** *** *** ***

Mary's legs ached a bit from the long plane ride and general lack of exercise for nearly the last month, unless you counted diving from bullets and being a human punching bag exercise, and she decided it was high time to walk on the beach. She had unpacked a few things from her carryall, but just didn't have the motivation to empty the suitcase yet. Changing into some shorts, a t-shirt and some flip flops, she wandered out into the warm sun and found her way to the shore.

The pier was a mile away, Marshall had told her, so she challenged herself to walk there and back without stopping, knowing she wouldn't be able to do it yet but setting an attainable goal. Carrying her shoes now, Mary walked at the edge of the surf and enjoyed the still warm waters curling around her toes and ankles, beginning to wash away something. It took over an hour to make her journey, but the rests were a journey in themselves as she took the time to gather a few shells and other oddities that always wash up. Items worn around the edges by being tumbled about and then left alone on the sand to warm in the setting sun…just like her.

The first stars were beginning to appear in the east when she decided to wander back to the cottage, waving at some neighbors as they returned from their walk also. It was a more relaxed lifestyle here and it would take some getting used to. There were enough dry goods in the house to make a simple meal of Cajun rice and beans, and Mary wasn't really hungry yet anyway. Slowly eating out of a bowl outside on the rocking chair, she knew her clothes now hung on her frame and would have to get back to a fighting weight if she had any chance of fully recovering. That meant trying to gain about twenty pounds. Chuckling to herself, she figured there would be plenty of women lining up to beat her senseless for complaining about having to gain weight.

Exercise would help too as some of the loss was muscle. A sudden thought as she watched a few die hard body boarders bob out by the pier, Mary decided to rent a sea kayak for the time she was here. An overall workout with the added bonus of being on the water… plus, you could chase the ducks.

The house was quiet as she entered and locked up for the night, and for the first time in over a week she felt completely safe. It was almost emotionally draining as her defenses were finally let down and her shoulders finally relaxed. No jumping at shadows or noises, no gut curling nausea at hints of scent wafting through the air, and hopefully no waking drenched in sweat and fear.

She maneuvered the suitcase onto the bed, sure it weighed more that fifteen pounds but not caring, and unzipped the top to just stare at the contents inside.

Her photo album sat dead center. The soot had been cleaned off as best as possible, and there was some browning on one edge, but as she gingerly turned a few pages she saw the pictures were unharmed. A note was taped to the front cover and Mary unfolded it with trembling fingers.

_Mary,_

_I found it under a collapsed portion of the ceiling. It must've been protected. Had it cleaned up and was going to give it to you, then decided you would need it there. I added a few pictures._

_Marshall_

Taking the book out, Mary turned towards the back and smiled at the new additions to her life in pictures. Her and Brandi laying by the pool giving the camera the finger…Marshall was holding the camera, Marshall posing for her at the Grand Canyon…he was pretending to jump with a ridiculous look on his face, her and Stan at the staging table of an operation…the looks on their faces intent and purposeful. Mary didn't remember that one being taken. The last picture nearly made her burst into tears. She didn't know who had taken it or where he had gotten it, but it was now hers and she pulled it out from behind the plastic cover.

They were at the obstacle course on the training grounds in Albuquerque and she and Marshall must've been racing again. They both fought dirty and totally broke all the rules during their races, either pulling each other off of the obstacles or completely running around them to cheat. Mary had obviously jumped on his back with plans to take him down and he had grabbed her in piggyback style. She was laughing and holding his head and he was grinning like an idiot. It was perfect. It was them.

She sat it next to the picture of the little boys and told herself that these were where she needed to end up. Running with abandon and laughing with the man who made her happy. Turning back to the suitcase she found one more surprise and laughed. A pair of pajamas with soccer playing penguins and another note.

_You can't say that's poop!_

She showered and changed into the new additions to her wardrobe and snuggled under the wonderfully soft comforter. Keeping the bathroom light on for comfort, Mary laid awake listening to the sounds of the surf through the window and began to plan for her day tomorrow. She didn't get much past breakfast options before the waves lulled her into a deep sleep that was uninterrupted for the first time in nearly a month. Healing.

* * *

***** See...it's going to be okay! Sorry so late...had to watch Burn Notice premier :) thank you roar526 for lending me Margaret's name! the REVIEWS are just bursting to get out, right? ****


	31. I Want Unsettled

***** They're both slowly coming around...slowly. Marshall faster than Mary, of course, as he was there already and just knocked slightly off kilter. He's gonna make a move! *****

* * *

I want pinned down  
I want unsettled  
Rattle cage after cage  
Until my blood boils

--- The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol

* * *

Marshall didn't check his mail the next day because he was hiking the trails in Bandolier National Monument south of Taos. He had left his house the night before and drove north to his destination, then rented a small cabin in one of the many campgrounds around the city. Mary would jeer at him about being a girl, but when you're past forty and have a job that requires too many hard landings, sleeping on the ground is no longer a desirable activity. Beds are nice…roofs too.

He enjoyed the landscape and architecture of the National Monument, the primitive Native American houses and structures making him wonder how the ancient people had built so much with so little, and that these simple buildings had stood the test of time more sturdily than some of the concrete and steel constructions today. The trail was quiet today as it was overcast and chilly, and Marshall strode along the rocky path listening to the faint echoes of his own footsteps as he passed through some narrower canyon walls. He was hoping to see some petroglyphs. Mary still teased him about his frequent trips to trace the petroglyphs in the National Park near home, saying he was just beating off in the wilderness, but Marshall was drawn to the ancient pictures and stories for reasons he couldn't define.

Maybe it was the simplicity of the drawings that could convey such complex meaning. The stark lines against the rough and uneven rock. Many times the drawings were hidden in small caves or overhangs, and the smell of dry earth and baked rock and the feel of sand on your arms as you wiggled in for the view just added to the sense of timelessness. He wished he could take the complexity of his life and emotions right now and draw them with slashes of mud-based paint and simple scratches in stone. Too much still tried to take up more than its share of space in his brain, and organizing all the thoughts was a monumental task.

He knew how he felt about Mary, knew it deep in his soul. It had been there a long time, and with the events of the past month it was only growing deeper and becoming more solid. A theory called by many names, Marshall usually related to Aristophanes' story that humans once had four arms and four legs with a single head consisting of two faces. Able to see all directions and move in any way, they became proud and belligerent. Zeus split them in two to break them, and the halves were condemned to search their entire lives for their soul mate to complete themselves. I was a corny duo of words…soul mate…but he didn't really know what else to call it. She completed him.

Her absence was physically felt as he kept thinking he was leaving something behind or had dropped something, even checking his pockets or looking around for some object before realizing he was just missing her presence. Off balance. Maybe that's why the last week had been difficult, why their relationship had seemed strained. Mary wasn't herself and that shell of a woman she had become did not fit him anymore. He was trying to put her round pegs into his square holes and the process was painful. A smile on his face now as he amused himself with the implied pornographic undertones of his metaphor, Marshall kicked a few rocks down a steep ravine to see them hit the bottom.

She had not looked well when she left, and he was hoping the sea air and exercise would allow her to heal both emotionally and physically. He didn't want to have to pull his punches with her...literally and allegorically. He loved that strong, aggressive part of her and was mourning its loss. Wanting to return to the rough and tumble physical relationship that was topped off with the sharp banter and subtle innuendos. The picture he sent to her also existed in his wallet. He wanted to make her laugh like that again, feel her strength again…he desired the return to them.

The damn woman was right, he decided as the trail began to climb again, they really did need some time to themselves to unwind the tangled mess of their lives and feelings. Little did she know he didn't need to make any decisions about **her**, he knew what he wanted, and this gave him time to make decisions about him and how he was going to fit her into his life. Marshall wanted a life with Mary Shannon, but he didn't yet know what it was going to look like. The only surety so far was that it would have to occur somewhere other than his house in Albuquerque. He was putting the thing on the market when he got back. Turning back towards the trailhead, Marshall tapped his temple to remind himself to put Mary's postcard in the mail by morning.

*** *** *** ***

Mary was more rested than she had been in a very long time, her mind and body thanking her profusely for the long awaited rest. Sleeping well into the morning, she was surprised to see it had been thirteen hours since her eyes had been open last. She still ached from deep bruises and healing muscles, but the bone weary creakiness was finally absent. Stretching as the breeze through the window caressed her, she let herself miss the warmth of her partner next to her. Waking up to Marshall had been the one thing she had looked forward to after the incident with Damien. His long arms and legs were always tangled with hers, and he liked to nuzzle the back of her neck in his sleep. She always knew he would be an affectionate man, but never realized how much she would like it. Sighing, the woman shook off the melancholy feelings and slid out of the bed to pad to the bathroom and on to the kitchen after that.

Mary opened a new can of coffee and enjoyed smelling the brewing beverage as she perused the view from the veranda in the cool air. Groceries were a must, and she was actually hungry this morning, so after a few cups of coffee on the veranda, Mary changed and wandered out to make her way into town. Marshall had told her the local store would deliver her groceries once she bought them so she wouldn't have to worry about hauling them back to the cottage.

She took her time strolling through the small neighborhood and onto the main streets. The bigger hotels and resorts dotted the boardwalk along the sea and she was happy to be staying away from all the traffic. There were enough people for the town to look populated, but not so many to say it was busy. Mary explored the smaller shops and found a great ice cream parlor, then visited the Chamber of Commerce to pick up some maps and info on the local parks and trails. Not usually a shopper or sight seer, she was finished with the social activities by early afternoon, bought her groceries and headed back to the house. The ancient man at the counter in the ice cream parlor had told her there was a canoe and kayak rental place within a few miles of the boardwalk, and she planned to head there tomorrow when she trusted her body with the adventure. Stomach full of local soup and sandwich, Mary grabbed one of the blankets from the window seat and meandered out to a comfortable dune with a notebook.

Writing was not her forte…she rolled her eyes as she had to admit any kind of communication outside of insults and punches was not her forte, but she promised Marshall a letter a day and she was going to follow through. It would serve the man right if she just wrote one letter of the alphabet on a piece of paper each day and sent it to him. Smiling at her own deviousness, Mary then sighed into a chuckle as she tried to put her mind to the task. Five crumpled sheets of paper later, she huffed in frustration and lay back onto the blanket to stare at the clouds.

What did she want to say? That she was falling in love with the man and it was killing her to be away from him? She grimaced at the thought, not because it wasn't true, but because she didn't know if it was a good thing yet. Didn't know if she could hand him her heart without freaking out and wanting it back a few minutes later because it scared her. She had only given a small part of it to Raphael and it was excruciatingly painful to even have that tidbit stomped on when it ended. Physical pain she could face and yell, "bring it on"…the chance of emotional pain was usually avoided. She hated feeling like that little girl again, hated the desire to plead for some smattering of love and affection, so circumventing the whole love thing and going right for the physical pleasure had worked for her so far.

She wanted the whole shebang with Marshall, but felt like that was asking too much and didn't know if she deserved it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she remembered Kelly's words, "_Do you trust him?_"

Mary couldn't imagine Marshall turning on her or leaving her in any scenario. She couldn't imagine herself doing it to him either, and that surprised her. She had never had a problem dropping someone like a hot potato if they became inconvenient, but knew she would fight tooth and nail for her partner. Assuming that was significant in some way, Mary was now glad Stan insisted on her making an appointment with a local shrink so she wouldn't miss any sessions while she was here. Mental and emotional knots weren't her forte either, and she figured the professionals were better at dealing with those.

Picking up the notebook again, she sketched the seashore and the clouds above it. Mary could draw very well, not many people knew that, and her sketch included some birds and the pier in the distance. She added herself sitting on the dune down in the corner, and wrote the words, "_I miss you_" on the sand. Pleased with her creation, she folded it up and gathered up the blanket to head back into the cottage. She was sleepy and planned to indulge in a nap for no reason other than she could. Putting the drawing into an envelope, Mary stuck a stamp on it and placed it in the mailbox to be picked up in the morning.

*** *** *** ***

Marshall arrived back at his house Thursday afternoon, five days after driving away, feeling rested and almost normal. The slightly panicked and anxious feeling he harbored after Mary left had been replaced by a more calm acceptance of her absence as he allowed himself to trust she would return as promised. His thoughts regarding the last few weeks were slowly starting to coalesce into something manageable he could bring to the counseling, and Marshall felt a spring return to his step.

Stepping into the house, he dropped his gear and wandered over to get his messages. A couple of calls from a local charity soliciting funds, one from his brother who never remembered his cell phone number, and two from his neighbor to let him know his lawn was getting too high. Narrowing his eyes, Marshall renewed his vow to shoot the man before he moved…muddling little prick. They had never gotten along, and the man called the cops on him a number of times because he thought Marshall was a drug dealer. Even the badge didn't convince him otherwise, and Marshall was pretty sure the man had enjoyed the 60's a little too much. Shaking his head in resigned amusement, he turned down the hall to the bathroom and caught just the faintest whiff of blood.

It stopped him in his tracks and he remembered what Mary had said, "_I'm afraid here and I don't want to be afraid anymore. I can still hear him here and see him in shadows…smell him…_"

The tangible evidence of her statement sent a frisson of revulsion up his spine, and all attachment he may have had to this home was severed. He would start packing up tomorrow and just leave out the essentials to make the house showable. It would likely take a few months to sell in this market, but he would start looking for a new place tomorrow…a place he knew Mary would like.

Making a face of apprehension, Marshall wondered how he was going to pull off getting her to agree to at least stay with him at the new place when she got back, if not live there. The face got more pained as he realized there would have to be a discussion with Stan if he and Mary moved in that direction, and Marshall sucked at his lip as he completed his journey to the restroom deep in thought.

The mailbox was the next stop, and he couldn't help the huge grin and curl of excitement in his gut as he had two envelopes from Mary. Nearly skipping back inside, he grabbed a beer and sat down on the couch to enjoy his treasure.

Opening by date of postmark, the first envelope contained her sketch of the seashore. He muttered an amazed "wow" at the artistic skill on the paper, shading and perspective perfect and the details making the scene almost come alive. He had no idea she could draw, only ever seeing her make a few obscene doodles on legal pads over the years. Surprising him yet again. Her self portrait in the corner made him catch his breath, and he closed his eyes for a moment to visualize the woman on the blanket…the message in the sand echoed a million times in his own heart.

Her second letter was a note he laughed at while reading. Typical raunchy statements about the folks in town and a short tale of her unfortunate first experience with the sea kayak. He could just see her standing knee deep in the mud of the tide pool as she lost her balance on the rocking boat. She said she missed him again and not to beat off too much in the wilderness. God, he missed her.

He had sent two postcards, a cheap souvenir and a short note in the last four days, but today he would write her a letter. Having a better idea of what was going on in his own head, Marshall knew what he wanted to say and grabbed his paper and pen.

_Mary,_

_I had a good time in Taos and the beard is coming in very well! So glad to see your letters when I got home, it puts my mind and soul at ease to know you're doing well. Your drawing is absolutely beautiful and I'm again amazed by the pieces of the woman I know so well that I don't know. Did that make sense? _

_I thought this letter writing business would be easy, but I've had to think about what to say for a few days now and sent you cheesy souvenirs instead. BTW, did you like the p.j.'s?_

_I miss you…terribly. I remember sitting next to you in the hospital in the middle of the night and wondering if I would ever see you again as the woman you were, or ever hear your voice again. It broke my heart to think I wouldn't get to spend more time with you or tell you things I wanted you to know. I feel a bit of the same way now, even though you promised you'd come home. Just sitting here hoping and waiting…and fighting for you._

_Sometimes it's just time to say what we need to say and damn the consequences._

_I spent the first two years of our partnership hanging on for dear life…never quite knowing if you'd shoot me by 'accident' or leave me on the side of the road (haha). I was in awe of your strength, force of will, perseverance and honesty. You may have been told this, but you are a force to be reckoned with! This is a good thing, Mary, and please don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise._

_Something odd happened during that third year we were together. I realized I was growing attached to you and you were becoming quite important to me. The trouble we had with Horst was my attempt to step back and try to separate myself from you. That, as we found out, is impossible. I now became awed by other aspects of you…your beauty, intelligence, vulnerability and capacity for caring in the face of insurmountable odds. Somewhere in that third year, I fell in love with you. (don't you dare stop reading, missy)_

_The last year has been hard on me in ways other than how it's been hard on you. I would not try to cage you either physically or emotionally, and watching you hurt over and over again and not being able to step in…it was killing me. I had to decide whether I was going to let you go and move on, or if I was going to fight for you and knock a little sense into that stubborn brain of yours. Well, you know what decision I made._

_So, here I am. A fool in love with a woman who rocks my world. Not much I can offer you except my love and protection…and backup when the world goes sideways. I plan to stand beside you when this is all done._

_Please stay safe and well and think about us. _

_Love, Marshall_

_p.s. I was __**not**__ jacking off in the desert!_

He was sweating a bit as he folded it and put it in the envelope. Thinking about it for a minute, Marshall stuck a stamp on it and jogged it down to the corner mailbox to flip it in. No chance to chicken out now. It was almost therapeutic, and he took a deep breath of the scented, evening desert air to clear his mind on the way back to the house. Time to pack up.

* * *

***** Well now, guess there's no doubt how Marshall feels, eh? Mary won't get that letter until after they talk on the phone...probably good for her. Still liking it?? Please REVIEW! *****


	32. Take Me as I Am

***** 769 hits...woo! *****

***** A shorter chapter. Mary has to catch up with Marshall. Some good self realization and a big step. Our little girl is growing up :) *****

* * *

So take me as I am  
This may mean you'll have to be a stronger man  
Rest assured that when I start to make you nervous  
and I'm going to extremes  
tomorrow I will change  
and today won't mean a thing

--- Bitch, Meredith Brooks

* * *

Wednesday was the first bad day.

She had spent three days enjoying the rest, sun and exploration of her new surroundings, reveling in the feeling of building strength as her body and soul were warmed from the outside and soothed from the inside. Still sometimes jumping at loud noises and occasionally suffering twinges of apprehension when any large, dark haired man was too near, but Mary truly thought the reactions were becomes less frequent and much less severe. Happy to know these things were actually going to fade with time, she finally had some encouragement that she wasn't always going to be this way.

She walked to the pier each day, not rushing but trying to build endurance by pushing the distance before resting each time. Mary was good at physically pushing and challenging herself, actually enjoying the aches of sore muscles from a good day of exercise. Just tangible evidence of growth and healing in her mind.

The kayak had proved a bit more challenging than she thought, and she had wrote the story to Marshall knowing he'd truly appreciate the image of her covered in muck. She found she still had the capacity to swear a blue streak that made the college student at the rental shop turn eight shades of red, and he was a little reluctant to help her out of the river until she calmed down. Twenty minutes later, she was laughing at herself as her pathetic attempts at paddling only served to drench him. She had to admit the kid was a good sport though, and was willing to give her a lesson or two if she wanted.

Her stomach muscles were still very weak, and she didn't last long in the paddling department. Know she would not be able to drag the craft to the water, the kayak shop offered to rent it to her on a weekly basis and keep it there where they could help her get it into the water. Mary wondered why the people here were so nice, then she wondered if people were nice in general and she never noticed because she thought she had no need for them. Maybe everyone should spend some time not being able to do for themselves…makes you look at others a little differently.

Those thoughts entered into her dreams Tuesday night and stayed with her when she woke to a gray and rainy Wednesday morning. The clouds didn't bother her, but she preferred not to walk along the windy beach in the driving rain, so her walk to the pier was out. Shrugging, Mary realized a day in the cottage would allow her to read a book, nap and possibly watch a movie. It had been a long time since she had taken a day to do nothing, and she wondered how long it would be before she got antsy. Mary didn't sit well, and the recent glimpse of physical freedom and new experiences was a bit addicting.

She showered and was getting dressed when her eyes fell on the photo album. Taking the book and a cup of coffee, Mary wandered up into the loft to settle into a big chair with a blanket. The book was heavy on her lap, and she wondered what the motivation was for looking through it. Generally avoiding reliving her past, she hadn't gone through these pictures in a couple of years, and only then to find one in particular to send to Brandi per her request. Did she really want to dredge up old emotions, fears and angst? Mary knew it was going to hurt, knew she'd end up curled in a ball of tears as she did when those letters were opened to the light of day after her kidnapping. Why do this to herself?

Because it was time. Time to look at things differently. Time to decide what it was that she truly had. Time to look at the events of the past with an objective eye as finished instead of wanting to relive them to make them different. Over and done, and this new life would be richer for them instead of mired down. She managed to drag herself out of the sucking mud once this week. Smiling weakly, Mary decided she could do it again.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent laughing and crying, mostly crying, while she slowly remembered each picture and allowed herself to think like the girl she was. She had been a mess…was still a bit of a mess…she realized, and wondered why no one had ever just shook some sense into her at some point. Probably did, but she never listened, Mary wryly concluded. Convinced she knew what was best for her, and for others, at all times. Having to take life by the balls at an early age, Mary just never let go, and insisted on making the universe and everyone in it sing soprano at her behest. Maybe she should loosen her grip a bit? She figured she could be satisfied with everyone singing alto.

Except Marshall. She didn't want to twist or force Marshall into anything, and that scared her. Releasing control and offering herself for him to reject or accept without influence. Even knowing with almost certainty his decision, Mary just didn't take that kind of risk. There had always been parameters and caveats when she had entered into relationships in the past…even with Raph. She held the cards as to whether she came or went, what level of affection and commitment she would accept. She had accused Raph of having some preconceived idea of what engagement and marriage were, but she was just as bad. Except her ideas were of hurt and loss with the added bonus of abandonment and pain.

She would just shrivel up and die if Marshall left her after she gave her heart to him. Mary fell into a fresh round of tears as she admitted that to herself. She hated that he held that much power over her, and a part of her used that as rationalization to continue to drive the wedge of uncertainty into her heart. It was like standing on the edge of a bottomless cliff and being able to see happiness on the other side but having to jump across the chasm to get there. You were pretty sure you could make it and really wanted to try, but to fail would be catastrophic. How do you muster up the conviction and courage to make the leap?

Mary had told him she wanted to stay with him, had told him what she felt was real, and she was still certain of those things. Maybe making the leap would be easier if she knew there was someone on the other side ready to catch her? Even knowing the shape she would be in as she came hurtling across.

Those thoughts whirled in her mind through dinner, and she later sat on the screened in porch listening to the rain wondering how that would look. How she would know if he was ready to catch her without any chance of falling into the abyss. Of course, she had to concede there are no absolutes in life, but she'd be willing to settle for the 99.9% chance of Marshall at least grabbing her by an ankle to haul her back up. Chuckling at her own ridiculousness, Mary decided that she could sit here all evening and play 'but what if?', or she could take the chance she'd been given and do something with it.

Retrieving the notebook and a pen, she at first just sketched a few figures around the edges, random silhouettes of people she knew and a rendition of the cottage she was in. Chastising herself for stalling, she put the pencil to the paper to write.

_Marshall,_

_Only you would send me a postcard of a giant squirrel skiing in Taos. You're such a dork. And, really, a keychain? I'm going to start a collection of idiotic keychains you've given me over the years…it won't be pretty._

_Well, let's get right to it…today was a bad day. Rainy. Sad. I spent the day going through the photo album and wondering what the hell happened. I mean, I know what happened, but when did it twist me into a woman who was basically a grown up bully? At what point did I decide people were for me to use as I please? _

_Maybe when I was thirteen and found out men would fall all over themselves to do my bidding for a piece of tail. Maybe at sixteen when the first boy told me he loved me and all I could think of was how to milk that for money to pay the electric bill. Seventeen and bruised? I'm pretty sure it was a well developed character trait by the time I got out of college, and as you know, I've only managed to refine it over the years._

_I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't really know how to do things any other way, and I can't promise that will ever change. Part of the reason I'm here is because I need that pushy bitch back. It's obvious I fall apart without her, and I've grown attached to her over the years._

_Actually, I've grown attached to __**you**__ over the years. I think you know that now. I'd like you to stick around, but with my track record you can probably understand why I would doubt myself. Don't get me wrong…I don't doubt you, but we talked about how I push. I just need to know that you would be ready for that._

_I can't offer you much, and I don't know how it would look…loving you (yes, I just put that word in print and I know you're grinning). Messy and crazy, I'm sure, but you seem to think I'm worth it, and that's got to be enough for me._

_I miss you and I'm thinking about you._

_Love, Mary (there it is again…dammit!)_

She worried her bottom lip as she reread the letter. So tempted to crumple it up like all the other aborted attempts the last few days, but remembering what Marshall had said that night she first curled up with him, "…_because of, not despite_…".

"_Jesus, Mary, grow a pair!"_ she berated herself, "_The man doesn't love you because you're a shrinking violet._"

Committing to freaking herself out, Mary put the letter in an envelope, stuck a stamp on it and laid it on the table to take to the post office in the morning. She had to head into town early to catch the bus to Savannah in order to get to the shrink's office by nine. "_Who thought nine in the morning was a rational time to have their brain picked?_" she made a face, resigned to the appointment. If she didn't go, Stan would find out and her ass would get yanked back to New Mexico. That was the deal.

Mary found a movie to watch, popped some popcorn and settled in. The movie was a western about prisoner transport. The adherence to duty while faced with ethical dilemma and the near certainty of death. Showing your true character and changing the lives of others. Seemed familiar. The hero died at the end. Mary realized it could've been her…almost was.

Second chances.

* * *

*****Who can tell me what movie she watched??? *****

***** Can't wait to see how they both react to their letters! Oh...and a phone call coming up on Saturday. Yay! Please keep REVIEWING...loving it :) *****


	33. Can't Rush a Weary Soul

***** thank you to MadeofStars for help with therapy processes and ideas! I named my doc after you! :) *****

***** One week down and how many to go? Progress, light at the end of the tunnel...and a phone call. *****

* * *

You can't fix this pain with money  
You can't rush a weary soul  
You can't sweep it under the rug, now honey  
It don't take a lot to know

It takes a little time sometimes  
To get your feet back on the ground

--- Takes a Little Time, Amy Grant

* * *

The melancholy lingered for another day, but even with her somber thoughts, Mary mailed her letter with trembling hands and as soon as she heard the quiet rustle of the paper as it hit the bottom she felt a little weight lift from her shoulders. Another decision made and there was no reason to worry about it any more.

The bus ride into the city was spent people watching. Her faith in her skills to read people was understandably shaken, and she tried to clue in on subtle tells to indicate deceit, nervousness and grief. Her gut was still telling her she knew what she was seeing, but images of Damien's triumphant grin as he stood over her in the kitchen kept flashing through her mind.

Now morose and pissed, Mary literally stalked into Dr. Maddy Star's office looking for a fight.

"Hmmm. Maddy Star? Sounds like a hooker name." Sulking in the chair she had chosen.

The woman across from her smiled and replied, "Believe it or not, I'm pretty sure this pays better and my clients don't ask me to close my eyes and meow."

A moment of silence as Mary narrowed her eyes as she studied the doctor, then leaned back into the cushions with a chuckle.

"Okay, you'll do."

"I'll make sure to note your stamp of approval." Star wryly returned as the session began.

Dr. Star told Mary she was going to use a method of helping PTSD patients called EMDR. Mary didn't remember the whole name, but it had something to do with remembering traumatizing events while watching something move back and forth in front of her eyes. What Mary liked hearing about the therapy is that is was effective and quick. If she worked at it, Dr. Star was pretty sure Mary could get through a lot of major hurdles and feel more normal within a month or two.

Mary filled the doctor in on some background details and the general sequence of events over the last few months, and then she practiced a relaxation technique she would use during the future sessions with EMDR. They had a little time left, and Dr. Star asked her what her main goal was.

Mary thought for a few minutes, and then became distressed and tried to blink back embarrassed tears, "I want to be strong again. I want to wake up in the morning wondering who was going to run from **me** rather than wonder who **I** was going to run from."

They talked about how that would look for a bit, then Mary's time was up and she headed back out to the island after grabbing a few things at some shops nearby. She saw a brochure for some plantation tours around Savannah and picked it up with the intent to book one for next week. She'd never been to a plantation and the scenery looked intriguing.

She called her mom and sister on Friday and spent a good hour catching up with their lives while working with Peter to get them into a condo he had found and wanted to ask her about. Jinx and Brandi had rebounded from the fire with the quickness only known to those who were used to others taking care of them. Already talking about the fitness room and neighborhood pool the condo complex offered, Jinx bubbled about the receptionist job Peter had offered her while Brandi was busy telling her about the new classes she had this fall. Mary was glad they were doing well, and she smiled sadly on her end of the phone as she realized they would never know what really happened. Ignorance is bliss.

She continued to wrestle the kayak into submission, and by Saturday morning she accomplished two things. Walking the two miles to the pier and back without stopping, and staying on the dry side of the kayak for a whole half hour. She treated herself to a double scoop ice cream cone after lunch on Saturday, and looked at a clock for the thousandth time that day in anticipation of calling Marshall later.

She had gotten another silly postcard with a poem he had obviously written while in a raunchy mood, and she read it a number of times so she could laugh, but yesterday the mailbox had been empty. A momentary pang of hurt, then she took a breath and remembered he had been traveling during that time and the mail from the areas north of Albuquerque was sometimes routed funny and took a bit longer to reach its destination. This was Marshall. Stan would grow hair before Marshall would forget her, and Mary let herself trust in him.

Laughing at herself, she couldn't help the tendrils of excitement that wouldn't seem to quit wending through her belly all day. She had never had a crush on a boy, but imagined it might feel something like this to hear others talk about it. It was kind of fun, and certainly distracting, and Mary allowed herself to just feel it and not try to make it go away. She also wondered how the hell she was going to pass the too many hours until it was time to call.

*** *** *** ***

Marshall had spent Friday putting his house on the market, perusing the web for homes for sale in the city and checking on Mary's family only to find they had just gotten off the phone with her. It made him want to call her, and he headed into the office instead to take his mind off of the missed encounter.

Stan was surprised to see him, and Eleanor offered to take him to lunch. Marshall gladly accepted, and the conversation inevitably steered towards Mary. Eleanor was surprisingly direct with an uncanny ability to know all.

"So, are you planning on living with Mary when you get your new place?" she casually asked as she speared a tomato.

Marshall nearly choked on a piece of ham and just stared at her, mind racing.

Seeing his expression, Eleanor leaned across the table to pat his forearm, "Don't worry, Marshall. I'm not in the habit of spreading rumors or sharing information. God knows there's parts of my life I wouldn't want anyone to know about." her raised eyebrow let him know she knew he knew about her and Stan.

Still gauging the wisdom of the situation, he slowly replied, "I'd like to present her with that choice. I don't know if she'll accept. We're talking about Mary here."

"Can I give you some advice?"

"Can I stop you?" he asked with a chuckle, and Eleanor laughed too.

"Probably not," then getting serious, "Don't give up. She's more than she seems, and I think she tries to make people look past her instead of at her. She only wants them to see the exterior, but you've been privy to the real person inside. Don't give that away."

Marshall was impressed with the woman's ability to see Mary's motivation. He knew what she was saying, and was quick to agree, "I don't plan to. I told her I'd fight for her, and I don't renege on my promises."

It made Eleanor happy, he could tell, and they spent the rest of the lunch laughing at some stories or other that amused them.

Marshall and Stan were trying to get the whole Day case sealed up and filed, and Marshall came across the DVDs of the FBI interviews with Mary. He pushed them around on his desk for a while as he considered viewing them, knowing she had said nothing of interest from the transcripts, but drawn to them in order to know what she went through.

Morbid curiosity won out, and by the end of the hour and a half of video Marshall's jaw ached from being clenched and he was slightly nauseous. He watched her try to sit up straight the whole time and rest her head between sessions with a sigh and grimace. Saw Agent Salter's complete disregard for her status, intelligence and injury, and the man's hands on her made him see red. Mary's performance was stellar, and he did wryly smile a few times as she thoroughly neutered the man, but mainly he wanted to crawl through the computer screen to beat Salter senseless. He could see the fatigue and pain in her eyes and in her body language, and Marshall was amazed she lasted as long as she did.

Standing in Stan's doorway a few moments later, he waited to be acknowledged.

Stan felt his presence and looked up, "What's wrong, Marshall?"

"I want to file a formal complaint against Agent Bruce Salter." Marshall's voice was low and serious.

Stan tilted his head, "For?"

"Assault and false imprisonment."

There were a few minutes of silence as Stan regarded his Inspector, "She wouldn't want you to fight her battles for her."

Marshall stared back, "She won't fight this one, and that's what partners are for."

Stan nodded in understanding, "I'll get you the paperwork."

Marshall knew it was highly likely nothing would come of the complaint, but by following the proper channels, the formal inquiry would remain on Salter's record for five years. A reminder to think about who he was dealing with the next time, and some justice for Mary.

It took a five mile run and two beers to take the tension out of his shoulders, and he was so glad to get to talk to Mary the next day. He needed to hear her voice when it wasn't tired and masking pain as it was in the video.

He had an appointment with the counselor tomorrow morning, so at least the early part of the day would be filled with activity. He'd definitely need to find something distracting to do for the afternoon so he wouldn't check his watch every five minutes to see if it was time for her call. Smiling to himself, he remembered feeling this way with his first crush in college. That never ending frisson of excitement that would sit curled in your gut. He liked it.

Saturday dawned just as any other day, but Marshall was up early in anticipation. He was already reminded of Mary because he had gotten her gift of a corny t-shirt that said "How tall is your lighthouse?" from one of the island's many souvenir shops yesterday, and he wore it under his dress shirt today. Rolling his eyes at himself as he got dressed, he tried to convince himself it was just courteous to wear something someone sent you. Right. He had it bad. Not that this was new after almost two years of loving her in secret, but somehow the long distance communication made you want the person more…need them more.

He and Dr. Ted Green spent most of his hour playing role reversals between him and Mary. Marshall's need to blame himself for any of her pain was being slowly and surely whittled away as the doctor kept putting him into Mary's shoes. Would he blame her if the situations were reversed? What would've he expected of her if Francesca had been his witness? Would he blame her if she had sent him home alone that night?

It irritated him that all of his answers, if he was honest with himself, exonerated her from any blame or fault…thus exonerating him. He didn't understand why he wanted to take some blame for this, and Dr. Green said it was a phenomenon similar to survivor guilt. A way for your brain to try to transfer the hurt you saw someone experience onto yourself in an attempt to take their pain away. It was false comfort, and ill advised. Not only did it cause emotional and physical stress to you, but you took the chance of the other person feeling as though they were being cheated out of owning the whole experience. They could see it as you trying to steal their thunder.

Marshall understood what he was saying. By transferring blame onto himself, he was forcing Mary to try to comfort him for something he didn't need. Pulling her away from her own grief and struggles. It was fairly selfish, actually, and Marshall looked at his feelings in a new light. All he really needed to do was to be totally and completely there for her. Allow her to express herself in anyway she found fit without worry for him. Relieved in a way, he left the counselor's office with a slightly lighter spirit, and a desire to find a place for Mary to heal here in Albuquerque.

He looked at three houses through the afternoon. Not really knowing what would be right for her, he tried to think like Mary and figured she'd want a place that would be defendable, yet spacious enough to be able to have areas to herself if she needed it.

Money wasn't a problem. Marshall's family came from a long line of prestigious New England clans, and even though his mother and father broke free from the mold, their children had been set up with trusts that would carry them through a large portion of their lives. He didn't think about it much as he wasn't a material man, but in times like this it was nice to be able to move forward without financial stress. He'd have to tell Mary about that at some time, and he knew it would piss her off at first, but he hoped her knowledge of him and his immediate family would waylay any trepidation. A moment later he found himself chuckling maniacally as he envisioned her at one of the big family reunions, "_Oh, God…"_ It would probably be the best time he'd ever have. Of course, she'd have to be part of the family, and that remained to be seen.

Lost in thought as he drove, Marshall came around a bend and saw a For Sale by Owner sign. Compelled to pull into the drive, he knew he had found his house. It was set back from the road a bit, but not too far to be isolated. The entry way was simple, and the house had a large patio courtyard in front as you approached the door. The couple was at home, and happy to show him around even though he was a surprise visit. Four bedrooms and two and a half baths, there were fireplaces in the main living room and in the master bedroom with French doors leading out to a back yard patio and pool. You could see the Sandia mountains, and Marshall thought about Mary's sketch. She would have a view here…things to draw if she so chose. The house was spacious, but by no means overdone or too large. Marshall didn't like houses that felt like showplaces, and he knew Mary would cringe at the thought. This one was only slightly larger than the house she had lived in, and he thought it would be acceptable.

Forcing himself to imagine living here alone, he nodded as he too felt comfortable and approved of the architecture and environs. He talked to the couple a while about the neighborhood, and by the time he left he had told them he'd be back on Monday with some papers. They revealed to him that the sign had only been in the yard for a day, and Marshall figured it was some cosmic fate.

*** *** *** ***

He answered on the first ring, "Marshall Mann's house of pie, we bake 'em like you want 'em."

"Oh, you'd just love to know how I want you, wouldn't you?" Mary teased through her laughter.

"Yes, please!" he was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

The both laughed for a moment or two, then Marshall took the lead, "So, how the hell are you?"

"Better now…talking to you," she was honest in her relief to hear his voice, "It's been a pretty damn good week, actually. I feel like I'm gaining some ground here."

"Yeah. You're a pretty smart lady, you know?" he returned with a smile, "This time to myself really was needed. I guess I didn't want to think you were right at first."

"Wow," Mary drawled, "you just called me smart **and** said that I was right in the same breath. Are you sure you didn't fall down and hit your head while being deviant in the park?"

"You know I like to lay down when I do that…how could I've fallen?" he could imagine the look on her face with his comeback and started to chuckle at the pause.

"Jesus, Marshall, now I have to have therapy for that image too."

That snappy, bantering tone just sucked the breath right out of him as he suddenly missed her with an ache.

"Hey, you there?" Mary prompted as she wasn't sure the connection was still open with the silence.

"I'm here," Marshall's voice was quieter, "just really miss you."

"Yeah." She agreed, then added, "I miss you at the strangest times. Today while I was buying batteries, coaxing a crab off my towel yesterday, eating strawberries out on the dunes the evening before. I even drew a picture of you sitting at your desk."

"About that. You never told me you could draw."

She shrugged, "You never asked. I can paint too. Picked it up in art class in middle school. Didn't stay long at that school, but the art was something I took with me."

"How often do you get to do it?" He could envision her sitting outside with a sketch pad and the image pleased him.

Mary was quiet for a bit, then sighed, "I usually end up drawing things that make me sad, so I don't do it much."

"Me sitting at my desk makes you sad?" Marshall was trying to make the connection.

Mary wanted to distract him from the subject, "Sure. You still had clothes on."

Distraction was achieved as Marshall's hormones reminded him of her curves beneath him, but he was quick enough to play the game, "Hmm. I'm pretty sure delicate parts of my anatomy would stick uncomfortably to the vinyl seat."

Mary chuckled with an evil smile and purred, "We may have to try that out sometime. I've always been curious about the sturdiness of that conference table myself."

Marshall slowly beat the back of his head against the couch pillows as he tried to rein in the ever spreading tingles of desire as images of a naked Mary sprawled on top of the conference table galloped along freely. This phone call was going to have him in a cold shower soon.

"You know I'm immune to your phone sex techniques, right?" he tried.

"Wanna bet?" her voice was pitched low now, and he could almost feel it through the phone.

"Careful now," Marshall grinned, "you don't want me to fall over and hit my head while I'm being deviant, do you?"

He heard her take a deep breath before she replied, "You are such a pervert."

Marshall laughed and Mary just shook her head. She honestly didn't know if he was completely kidding about being deviant if she continued to tease him, and knew she'd be on the next plane to Albuquerque soon if they kept this up.

"Only with you, Cowgirl" Marshall assured in a soft voice and Mary ached for him.

"So," trying to inject some lightness into her tone, "what have you been up to this week other than traipsing through the wilderness?"

He took the opening to steer the conversation onto safer ground. He told her about his trip and about wrapping up the Day case. He left out the part about watching the tapes. There hadn't been much action on the witness front, but Marshall updated Mary on her witnesses and on two planned transfers in the next two weeks. Stan hadn't given him the thumbs up for being back on active duty by Monday, but Marshall was hoping to help train a newer WITSEC Inspector from Phoenix on the finer details of witness transport.

"Oh God, Marshall, don't take those damn foreign language tapes you think I don't hear you practicing." she was rolling her eyes, "the poor guy will think he's just accepted the job from hell."

"It stimulates the brain to learn a new language," Marshall also liked to watch Mary sneer at him when he tried to speak a foreign tongue in public, cracked him up every time, "Don't blame me when your poor, bored little brain leaks out of your ear someday."

"At least it won't try to pick up the hostess at the local sushi joint by telling her she has the lips of a tuna." Mary had to be dragged from the restaurant by her red faced partner as she was laughing so hard she couldn't walk.

"Shut up." wasn't his shining moment.

His comment about brain stimulation settled her chuckles down after a moment, "Hey. I went to the therapist here, and she's going to do this weird therapy on me. It's called EMDR…"

She didn't get a chance to finish as he jumped in excitedly, "Really? That's supposed to be amazingly effective. It stands for eye movement desensitization and reprocessing and it's based on the theory that recalling traumatic events while the eyes trace objects back and forth somehow reprograms the memory networks. There's new connections forged between the two hemispheres of the brain that take the traumatic memories and redistribute them into more appropriate memory networks. There was this study…"

"Okay…blah, blah, blah…enough psychobabble, Dr. Phil," she cut him off quickly, "I just know it's supposed to work fast so I'm on board. Get my brain rearranged as quickly as possible so I can get back to being me."

Marshall needed to google EMDR again to learn more about it so he could understand Mary's treatment.

"Don't rush, Mary," he warned, "You don't want to think you're all fixed only to slide backwards because you didn't take the time to do it right."

She knew he was right, "I know. It's just kind of exciting to know I'm fixable. I was a little worried I'd never find my way back, you know?" blowing out a breath before he answered, "I can't say I'm not concerned about how I'll be when I'm back home though. That'll be a slap of reality I'm not really looking forward to."

Marshall frowned as he could hear the uncertainty in her voice, "I'm working on a few things here that I think will be helpful."

"Care to share?"

"Not yet."

She nodded with pursed lips, understanding his need to think things through a bit more. Mary was becoming more familiar with that process of thinking before speaking and looking at things from different angles before taking action when there was time for decisions.

Marshall could just about hear her rolling thoughts around in her head and wanted to keep her focused, "Learned how to wrestle that kayak without losing yet?"

"Oh! Did you get that story already?" she suddenly wondered if he had gotten her letter yet and her pulse picked up.

"Yep. That and the sketch and the t-shirt. Very nice."

Blowing out a quiet breath of relief, Mary smiled as she regaled Marshall with her adventures on the plastic beast, enjoying his laughter and the ease at which they teased each other. She hadn't realized how much they could talk about when there wasn't even that much to talk about, just sliding into each other's thoughts and ideas as if they belonged there. He asked her if she was having nightmares and she told him the truth that a few nights had been bad, but overall the dreams were shorter and less intense than before. Mary proudly announced her accomplishment of walking two miles without stopping and Marshall was impressed. She could barely walk around the block before she left, and his blocks weren't that big.

She thanked him for the package of CDs she had gotten that day, along with her iPod. He had pulled them out of her car the other day and knew she'd like to have them at the house and for the longer paddles and walks she had planned. He nixed her unfinished thought of him sending her gun before she could even get the question out of her mouth. Marshall could feel her glare at him through the phone.

"What are you going to shoot? Gulls? Surfers? Barney at the ice cream store?" Marshall teased.

Mary laughed, "Barney's a hoot! He knows everyone on this island. He must be, what, 90?"

"He's been there for as long as I can remember. Serving the ice cream to hot and sweaty little kids with sand in their hair and sunburned cheeks." It was a nice memory, and Marshall smiled into it.

"I have a feeling if I tried to shoot Barney he'd pull some ninja ice cream trick and I'd be covered in butter brickle before I could blink."

"Gives new meaning to the command, "freeze!" doesn't it?" Marshall nodded in triumph at his own funny.

She gave him a long, suffering sigh in return.

He was quiet for a minute and Mary waited, "So, Mare, when do you think you'll come home?"

She knew he was going to ask, and his hesitancy almost broke her heart, "I don't know yet. I do know it'll be sooner rather than later, if that helps. Things are getting better and I'm getting my feet under me. And I miss you and want to be there with you." choking up slightly at the end.

He had to accept it for what it was, a finite amount of time although he didn't know exactly how long, "I'll be here."

"That's better than any therapy, Marshall, I want you to know that." Mary did not want to cry, "Just knowing you think I'm worth waiting for allows me to do everything I can to get back to you." It was probably one of the sappiest things she had ever uttered, but she thought he needed to hear it.

Marshall pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to keep his emotions in check. She was trying to come back because she wanted to…wanted him. It was so hard to keep his feet planted here and not go to her, but he would wait.

"It's getting late, Mare, I should let you get some sleep." his voice was reluctant, but they had been talking for nearly three hours and it was three hours later at Mary's end.

Mary knew the call would have to end sometime, but it was almost as hard as getting in that taxi a week ago. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and swiped it away in annoyance.

"I'd ask you stay a little while longer, but it would just make this harder." she nearly whispered.

"I'll stay as long as you need me, you know that."

She sighed, "I do. You're a good man, Marshall."

"I'm a lucky man, Mary."

That chasm suddenly became much narrower, Mary felt much lighter, and the leap wasn't so farfetched anymore.

"I'll be thinking about you, Cowboy. Good night and sweet dreams."

He wanted to say it…really wanted to say it, but he had to wait, "They'll be of you."

Mary blushed slightly as the connection was severed and she sat on the couch curled in the corner mourning the loss of his presence, even if through the phone. It was a while before she dried tears and wandered to the bedroom to get ready for bed. The sounds of the surf and feel of the cool breeze through the window somehow mixed with other sensations to give her a night of dreams that were anything but nightmares.

* * *

***** Yay...they got to talk to each other!! She's not coming home quite yet, darn. You know they'll both get their letters on Monday...exciting! Thanks for reading and for all the great ideas!! Y'all rock with the REVIEWS!! *****

***** google EMDR...very interesting stuff *****


	34. I Know One Thing

***** The writing's on the...well, paper. Feelings revealed and Mary breaks the rules. Enjoy!! *****

* * *

My momma told me don't lose you  
Cause the best luck I had was you  
And I know one thing that I love you

--- Say Hey, Michael Franti and the Spearheads

* * *

Monday was a true example of Indian summer along the Georgia coast, warm, dry and nary a breeze. The onshore breeze off the ocean was late in gathering strength, and Mary was sweating pretty well by the time she neared the dunes that would lead her back to the cottage. She had attempted a slow jog for part of her journey to the pier and was surprised by its ease. Winded fairly quickly, but her gut didn't hurt and her legs obeyed, so Mary's mood was high as she stretched facing the ocean. Her paleness was fading as the days outside showed with high hints of color along her face, arms and legs. The warmth of the sun seemed to radiate all the way to her internal organs, and the feel of sweat and salt on her skin made her feel more alive that she had since…well, since she had come back to life.

Standing with her hands on her hips, Mary watched the sunlight sparkle on the tips of the wavelets moving along the shore. The gulls called and swooped down on something interesting, and she wondered how they could see what was beneath the mirrored surface. Even the sky seemed slightly glassy today, with the milky blue marred occasionally by a wispy length of cloud and the wet sand at the edge of the surf held the sheen of the receding water just a little longer than expected.

She could see and hear the little bubbles of sand that popped open as the water fell back, indicating a hiding crab reestablishing its breathing hole, and Mary remembered digging like crazy at the little holes trying to find those critters underneath. The crabs were always too fast, and Mary's hands had only ever found more wet sand that just filled in with the next wave, her fingers dirty and gritty as she jumped at the next hole. The crabs would get their revenge later as she sat in the sand building castle walls, sidling up to her unnoticed and pinching her swimsuit or toes.

They had spent a week at the shore once as Jinx had been evicted yet again and they were down to a borrowed tent and some clothes for each of them. Brandi thought it was an adventure, but Mary was wary of the vagrants and teenagers that populated the shifting sands at night. Jinx had a new boyfriend by the end of the week and they were able to move back into a dwelling with a door, but those nights lying awake listening to the footsteps and breaths just on the other side of the material stayed with her for a long time.

It was the same fear she had felt after the attack by Damien. The need to hold your breath and listen as your heart pounded and you wondered if the dawn would ever come. Plotting escape routes and defense techniques, not knowing if you'd have to sacrifice yourself for someone else…not knowing if you could.

The fear was slowly fading, and she only occasionally startled with a touch or loud noise. Not noticeable to anyone who didn't know her. What still caused her to shudder was thinking about the nights she had been curled up with him. How could she not have known the man lying next to her was a killer and a liar? Seeing her only as a means to an end, and plotting her death even as he pleasured her body. Mary's brain was fairly off center and deviant at times, but she could never imagine the sickness and darkness that must exist in someone's mind to do those things.

She tried to rationalize it, tried to assure herself that he had never actually hurt her up until the night of the attack. Sex was just sex, after all, so why did she seem to connect this intimacy with ugliness and pain? Again, there were connections there she couldn't understand, and hopefully the appointment tomorrow with Dr. Star would bring some things to light.

Shaking off the dark thoughts on a bright day, she wandered a bit to gather a few seashells and head back to the cottage. Mary kept the shells in a bowl on the kitchen table. Not only did she enjoy them for their loveliness, they reminded her of that moment of transition that seemed to stretch into forever. That feeling of timelessness would always remain with her, she suspected, and Marshall's voice still echoed clearly in her head. There was a small nautilus shell within her treasure today, perfect in its spiraling shape. It was like the one in that dream, and she set it on the top of the small pile as she headed to the shower.

*** *** *** ***

All that was left to do was wait for the loan approval, and Marshall shook hands with the couple who still briefly owned his new house as he got up from their kitchen table after drawing up and signing the reams of paper involved in buying a house. He doubted it would take more than a day for his bank to get back to him, they usually fell all over themselves to approve him and he thought it was pretty ridiculous. Just another guy making his way in this world. If not for Mary, he would've waited for his old house to sell then use the equity to put down on the next, but he needed to speed the process up a bit this time. He could rent out his old place until it sold so it would pay for itself in the interim. The couple in this house was excited to sell so quickly as their daughter was due to have triplets in Colorado in a few months and they had decided to move closer to the soon to be larger family. They had planned to be out of the house within the next two weeks, so Marshall figured he had better push his packing into overdrive.

He didn't expect Mary to come home for at least another week as she seemed to be doing well and taking advantage of the peace and quiet. He certainly didn't blame her, but if she was still out there after two more weeks he was going to start thinking about getting permission to join her. They needed some time to heal together also…and he had to lob the house situation into the mix. Coming back to it without warning would probably set her off. The thought made him grimace.

Marshall had been in a funk yesterday and spent most of the day throwing out items he deemed unnecessary in a sweep of his house to prep it for packing and for show. He kept finding little things of Mary's…a hair band, a sock, her shampoo…and the constant reminders along with the memories of the phone call just made him cranky and lonesome. He kept looking at her sketch of the beach, and could imagine her standing out there in the surf with her blonde hair swirling in the wind. She would look like warrior, he envisioned, sturdy and strong with a sense of purpose.

He had heard the strength returned to her voice through the telephone the night before and it caused his heart to lighten. She was laughing easily and the banter was beginning to return to expected caustic levels. Not quite as sharp and acerbic as normal, but the tone was almost right a few times. He was still careful with replies as it was hard to gauge her true feelings without seeing her face. She could lie like a rug, and unless you were watching her eyes and posture you'd miss the tells, miss seeing the subtle signs of hurt and discomfort. He'd play the game, but just keep it close to the chest for a while longer.

The teasing was a pleasant surprise, though, and hearing the desire in her voice did things to him that shouldn't be left unattended for this long of a period of time. He anticipated their future time together for so many reasons, and had to admit getting his hands on her was one of them. They wouldn't have to hold back anymore, and he had plans for her. Growling at himself as he adjusted his jeans, Marshall berated his overworked and underused libido as he got back to cleaning out the study.

*** *** *** ***

Two envelops from Marshall, and Mary walked into the cottage with a grin on her face and skip in her step. She had spent the afternoon downtown at the library checking some email and then doing some grocery shopping for the week. The lazy, non purposeful days were so different than any other life she had ever experienced, and she could now see the appeal of summers by the beach, always thinking it seemed like a waste of time before. There was no frantic sense of trying to survive, all you needed to do was just be. She wondered if she would've been able to do this before getting shot…before Damien. Maybe it did take falling all the way to the bottom of the well to be able to look up with a different perspective.

She tossed a few flyers from local tourist destinations onto the table, grabbed a glass of ice tea and wandered back out to the rocking chair to read her letters.

The first was a short note he had obviously written while still up near Taos. Giving her some information about the National Park and telling a story about bears and coyotes that had her chuckling as she rocked. The man was a little off center, she decided, then noted that that was nothing new. His goofy sense of humor and ability to see the nonsense of life in just about any situation fascinated her.

She had never known anyone who could be completely enchanted by just about anything. On a rainy day he could expound on the pattern of wavelets in a puddle under the gutter, during a gun fight he would debate the scientific merits of being able to dodge bullets as they did in a futuristic sci-fi movie he had watched the night before, her sister's whine prompted him to bore her with the facts surrounding the wavelengths of sound the human ear detected…never ending facts and ideas that always pushed the boundaries of intellect and her patience.

Marshall was the only human being she knew who could lull her to sleep with his voice. He would get going on some obscure topic while they drove through the middle of nowhere, and Mary could be assured of a good two hour nap starting within the first fifteen minutes of the narrative. She wondered if he did it on purpose, trying to keep her irritability to a minimum as he was stuck with her in a small space for a long period of time.

He could make her laugh, but he could also push her buttons and make her contemplate murder. Marshall was the only one who would stand his ground against her. Call her out, make her pull up short and fight. Usually easy going and willing to let her have her way, the eye rolling and passes on bad behavior could stop quickly if she crossed the line, and she'd get to see the side of Marshall that not many others had. Steel willed, stubborn and as nasty as they come when cornered.

She first experienced it thirteen months into their partnership. She tried to intimidate him, he laughed at her and she threw a punch. Mary ended up face down on the ground with one arm behind her while he instructed her to say 'my partner is not my punching bag'. Never hurt her…and she never saw it coming. Surprised and secretly impressed, Mary acquiesced and took a new look at the tall, lanky man she now called a partner. Got to see him in action on someone he **didn't** like about two months after that and swore she'd buy him back at any price if they ever tried to take him from her. He saw her smile when the incident was under control, and she noticed him drop his façade a bit more when he was around her after that, somehow knowing she thought 'bad Marshall' was pretty damn good.

Their verbal fights could get downright vicious and peel paint off the walls, and Mary could count a number of times they had driven each other to tears, neither wanting to back down and calling the other out on a number of items. She would throw her nastiest digs at him and he'd fling them right back with an extra coating of hurt until they either stopped speaking to each other for a few days an let the fires cool, or one or the other recognized the true pain of their partner and stepped in to apologize. The end result was the same…a partnership so close they operated nearly seamlessly.

They didn't know everything about each other, but they could talk about anything. Both had secrets they chose not to reveal and that was okay, acceptance was not based on baring their souls, but on the premise that if they did the other would stay.

Sighing as she missed him, Mary put aside the note and opened the next envelope. It was a longer letter, and she smiled in anticipation.

_Mary,_

_I had a good time in Taos and the beard is coming in very well! So glad to see your letters when I got home, it puts my mind and soul at ease to know you're doing well. Your drawing is absolutely beautiful and I'm again amazed by the pieces of the woman I know so well that I don't know. Did that make sense? _

_I thought this letter writing business would be easy, but I've had to think about what to say for a few days now and sent you cheesy souvenirs instead. BTW, did you like the p.j.'s?_

Marshall, who could spout something about anything at any point in time, had to think for a couple of days about what to write to her? Mary wondered what interesting things she would find in this letter, and hoped to God he wasn't really growing a beard.

_I miss you…terribly. I remember sitting next to you in the hospital in the middle of the night and wondering if I would ever see you again as the woman you were, or ever hear your voice again. It broke my heart to think I wouldn't get to spend more time with you or tell you things I wanted you to know. I feel a bit of the same way now, even though you promised you'd come home. Just sitting here hoping and waiting…and fighting for you._

She had to take a break because she couldn't see the words on the page due to the tears. No one had ever said such wonderfully kind things to her before. She doubted anyone had ever thought about her that much before. Blinking back the tears, Mary took a deep breath and continued.

_Sometimes it's just time to say what we need to say and damn the consequences._

That line scared the hell out of her and she rested the letter on her lap as she stared out at the flat sea. Reading further was going to reveal something that could never be unrevealed, she knew. It was one of the reasons she was here, and the reason she had ever come back at all. Her eyes slowly tracked back downward_._

_I spent the first two years of our partnership hanging on for dear life…never quite knowing if you'd kill me in my sleep or leave me on the side of the road (haha). I was in awe of your strength, force of will, perseverance and honesty. You may have been told this, but you are a force to be reckoned with! This is a good thing, Mary, and please don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise._

_Something odd happened during that third year we were together. I realized I was growing attached to you and you were becoming quite important to me. The trouble we had with Horst was my attempt to step back and try to separate myself from you. That, as we found out, is impossible. I now became awed by other aspects of you…your beauty, intelligence, vulnerability and capacity for caring in the face of insurmountable odds. Somewhere in that third year, I fell in love with you. (don't you dare stop reading, missy)_

She'd send her apologies later for disobeying him, but if she didn't want the rest of the letter to be soaking wet, she had to set it down and grab a towel.

"_That long?"_ she wondered with disbelief. Through everything in the last year, he had been in love with her. It stunned her, and she felt as though she had let him down somehow. Sniffling and composing herself, she read through the end of the letter.

_The last year has been hard on me in ways other than how it's been hard on you. I would not try to cage you either physically or emotionally, and watching you hurt over and over again and not being able to step in…it was killing me. I had to decide whether I was going to let you go and move on, or if I was going to fight for you and knock a little sense into that stubborn brain of yours. Well, you know what decision I made._

_So, here I am. A fool in love with a woman who rocks my world. Not much I can offer you except my love and protection…and backup when the world goes sideways. I plan to stand beside you when this is all done._

_Please stay safe and well and think about us. _

_Love, Marshall_

_p.s. I was __**not**__ jacking off._

Mary laughed and cried at the same time, her emotions scattered and sidetracked by his words. It was almost too good to be true, and Mary knew there were no such things as fairy tales. Her hands were shaking as she read his words again to make sure she had read them correctly. The man declares his love to her and she's two flippin' thousand miles away. Maybe that's a good thing as she was a complete mess and wouldn't have known what to say had he been standing in front of her.

"Not much to offer me?" she muttered incredulously, "Are you kidding? What more could I want?"

Having no appropriate outlet for the rush of feeling and emotions, Mary jumped up and danced around the porch for a minute or two before plopping back down in the chair to read the letter again and again, memorizing it to recall at any time.

*** *** *** ***

He was at the office a little later than usual as Stan had given him the green light to take on the witness transport Thursday. Marshall was trying to catch up on threat assessments and route options while also reviewing the service record of the Marshal he would be training. His brain was engaged and Marshall was energized. Working through dinner, he finally left the building around six, and after a quick stop at the grocery store, arrived home just before seven. Grabbing the mail, he perked up even more as he saw the envelope from Mary.

Dinner could wait a little longer, he decided, because he couldn't wait to read the letter. Grabbing a bottle of water and toeing off his boots, he flopped down in his recliner and fished out the folded paper.

He noticed the sketches first, of course…him, Eleanor, Stan…profiles and portraits drawn with simple and sparing strokes. Just enough ink to breathe life into the lines and make them recognizable. The cottage was on the bottom of the page and he smiled with recognition. She was really good.

Finally, he settled in to read the words.

_Marshall,_

_Only you would send me a postcard of a giant squirrel skiing in Taos. You're such a dork. And, really, a keychain? I'm going to start a collection of idiotic keychains you've given me over the years…it won't be pretty._

His eyebrows raised slightly as he murmured, "She kept the keychains?"

_Well, let's get right to it…today was a bad day. Rainy. Sad. I spent the day going through the photo album and wondering what the hell happened. I mean, I know what happened, but when did it twist me into a woman who was basically a grown up bully? At what point did I decide people were for me to use as I please? _

"_Wow_," he thought with concern, "_she's really tearing down walls._" He couldn't imagine how hard it would be to go through all those pictures and come to a conclusion that wasn't flattering. It was hard to read, but he continued.

_Maybe when I was thirteen and found out men would fall all over themselves to do my bidding for a piece of tail. Maybe at sixteen when the first boy told me he loved me and all I could think of was how to milk that for money to pay the electric bill. Seventeen and bruised? I'm pretty sure it was a well developed character trait by the time I got out of college, and as you know, I've only managed to refine it over the years._

Marshall rubbed his forehead with his fingers as he closed his eyes to try remove the images her words produced. "_Jesus…thirteen?_" had a hard time fathoming it. Mary really never got to be a child. Grew up the day her father left and skipped right into the grown up world. He wasn't feeling all that magnanimous towards Jinx at the moment.

_I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't really know how to do things any other way, and I can't promise that will ever change. Part of the reason I'm here is because I need that pushy bitch back. It's obvious I fall apart without her, and I've grown attached to her over the years._

_Actually, I've grown attached to __**you**__ over the years. I think you know that now. I'd like you to stick around, but with my track record you can probably understand why I would doubt myself. Don't get me wrong…I don't doubt you, but we talked about how I push. I just need to know that you would be ready for that._

"I've been ready for over a year, Mare," Marshall talked to the paper in front of him, "Just been waiting for you." He wished he could convince her that he wanted her just the way she was. He wanted that pushy bitch back too. She was so close to letting him in, and his gut clenched as he continued to read.

_I can't offer you much, and I don't know how it would look…loving you (yes, I just put that word in print and I know you're grinning). Messy and crazy, I'm sure, but you seem to think I'm worth it, and that's got to be enough for me._

_I miss you._

_Love, Mary (there it is again…dammit!)_

He just sat and grinned like an idiot as he reread the words to make sure he had seen them correctly. Mary Shannon had written some form of the word 'love' on a piece of paper that she had given to him willingly. Somewhere, stars realigned, he was sure, because what he read said she was ready. Just needed to take the last step and commit herself to that leap of faith.

An odd twist of fate that they had both written letters offering themselves to each other, and that Mary was likely reading his today also. That made him a little nervous, but if she was this close, he sincerely hoped his words convinced her beyond her doubts.

As if on cue, his phone rang and the sight of the caller ID caused him to suffer a few butterflies. Taking a deep breath, he leapt.

"Somebody's breaking the rules." Marshall sing-songed into the phone.

Mary had fought with herself about calling him all evening and into the night. She so wanted to talk to him, knowing he had likely gotten her letter today also, but didn't know if she should wait the prescribed week. Finally giving herself up to craziness, she followed her typical pattern and broke the rules. Her face lit up with his voice, and then she had to chill out before replying.

"You're crazy, you know that?" her voice sounded slightly off, but not in a bad way.

"And this is news?"

"Marshall, I'm a mess. My life is a mess." Mary wasn't sure why she was trying to give him an out.

"I reiterate, since when have we not known this?" he was playing with her.

"Shut up, you moron."

"Shutting up." but still smiling, as was she.

"I'm trying to be serious here," a sigh, "You know me. You know what I'm like. I'm no picnic, and trouble seems to follow me around. I'd bite your head at least once a week and probably wouldn't even feel bad about it. I'm cranky, snappy, late most of the time, a bad driver, a worse cook, bossy, rude and mainly inconsiderate, both to strangers and to you." She took a breath and he chuckled as he interrupted her.

"Don't forget sleepy, sneezy, happy, doc and dopey." he could just envision her on the other end pacing back and forth.

"Right…um, wait…what?" Mary realized what he said and was confused.

"Mare, do you really think I don't know who you truly are?" she could hear his smile, "After four years of living in each other's back pockets, you know me well enough to know I don't go into anything without both eyes wide open. You said you needed to know I would be ready…I think you have your answer now."

"Pushy and bitchy…" she was winding down.

"I hope so."

"Crass and obnoxious…"

"I'm counting on it."

"Mean." her last hurrah.

"Perfect." Marshall could hear her breathing, and he held his breath a little bit as he knew she was making a decision, then added some descriptions of his own as she thought.

"I also know you're driven, smart, honorable, loyal to the point of self sacrifice, a fabulous shot, a skilled fighter, witty, caring, can hold your liquor, a survivor and you look outrageously sexy in a pair of shorts. I can go on if you need me to."

Mary had to laugh at his descriptions of her, especially the last one. She realized there was nothing she could say to dissuade him, and that knowledge fixed a grin on her face.

"An insane man."

"I love you, Mary." He said it simply and willed every ounce of truth and conviction into it.

She felt his words down to her toes and closed her eyes, "And I love you, Marshall."

They both spent some time in the moment and the silence was full of promise.

Marshall chuckled, not wanting her to get skittish, "Now, the only problem with this is that you're two thousand miles away so I can't even throw you down to ravage you right now. I'm sorely disappointed."

"You're not the only one, buddy," she wryly replied, "I had some pretty vivid dreams of you the other night. I didn't know you knew how to do those things."

"Well, I do remember promising you you'd be pleased."

"You have no idea how many times I'm going to hold you to that promise." Mary's voice was low and smooth.

"Two weeks." a cryptic statement in a rough tone.

"Explain?"

"I'll be out there in two weeks," Marshall had figured it in his head, "I have the transport at the end of this week, then some activities I have to participate in next week, and I'll hop on a plane next weekend. We need some time too."

"Presumptuous." she was already walking into the kitchen to circle the weekend on her calendar as she teased him.

"Horny and ready for a vacation myself." he got up to go start fixing his dinner.

Mary laughed out loud and Marshall joined her. Neither could stop grinning, and they talked for about twenty more minutes before Mary begged off with a yawn.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, embarrassed, "I worked out hard today, and it's pretty warm so I'm whipped. Gonna take my sorry ass to bed."

"Now you're just being mean, getting me all interested in your ass again."

"You need to go put on the penguins and practice some stick handling." Mary drawled.

Marshall snorted and almost dropped the salt shaker. He loved it when she was crude, "Off with you! I'll call you Thursday morning to tell you about the new guy."

"It's a date." she smiled.

"I promise to wear my prettiest underwear then."

"That's at least another week of therapy, nitwit." she really loved this man.

"I love you, Mare. Sweet dreams." Just being able to say it guaranteed a good week, and Marshall grinned from ear to ear. He didn't expect her to say it back, but knew she was thinking it all the same.

"They'll be of you." echoing his statement from the other night.

There was mutual grinning throughout the night.

* * *

***** Oh yay! Those two weeks are going to seem like forever! Mary gets some more time, and Marshall can get the house situation under control. Keep those REVIEWS coming people!! *****


	35. Shine Like Gold

***** Two weeks...wow, that's a long time. Getting so close! Thank you all again for reading and reviewing...you're just awesome :D *****

* * *

You make me smile like the sun  
Fall out of bed sing like bird  
Dizzy in my head spin like a record  
Crazy on a Sunday night  
You make me dance like a fool  
Forget how to breathe  
Shine like gold buzz like a bee  
Just the thought of you can drive me wild  
Ohh you make me smile

--- Smile, Uncle Kracker

* * *

The first EMDR session basically pissed her off. Mary went along with the relaxation technique, mentally applauding herself for sitting fairly still, just picking at a loose button on the arm of the couch, and concentrating on the pleasing image she was supposed to envision. Dr. Star hadn't asked her what it was thankfully…Mary couldn't help it if her happy place involved firearms, could she?

Then the questions started and the memories were dragged to the forefront. This was supposed to help sort the feelings the right way and defuse the anger and Mary didn't see the point. She **wanted** to be angry at Raph, at Francesca…at everyone involved in the cluster fuck that almost killed her twice. Anger had always propelled her to charge at any threat without fear or thought of repercussion, and if she replaced it with a lesser emotion she was afraid she'd second guess her way out of situations that required instinct rather than intellect. One of Mary's mottos was 'when in doubt, get angry'.

Star had told to her think about one of the recent events that was the most upsetting and to watch her finger while she moved it back in forth in front of Mary's eyes.

"This is stupid." Mary growled.

"What makes it feel stupid?" Dr. Star asked encouragingly.

"It's like you're trying to wave a magic wand in front of my face and all my bad memories will run to their proper place and I'll be cured. Who thinks that shit works?"

"What event were you thinking about?"

Mary scowled, "The attack in Marshall's kitchen." Her eyes skittered from one object to the next in the room, finally settling on the button she was picking at.

Dr. Star was patient, prompting calmly, "That event is more upsetting to you than the shooting. What negative things did you feel when you were thinking about it just now?"

"What do you think? Pissed…irate, appalled, stunned…" Mary waved her hands around with an intense glower, "Wondering what the hell just happened, who the hell this man was…what did I do wrong?"

"What does that say about you?"

The question seemed odd, and Mary furrowed her brow as she automatically tried to look at it from an internal view, "I was stupid for not seeing him as a liar. I'm trained to read people…to use their cues and to trust my gut to influence my interactions them. I utterly failed. I never had a clue. I trusted when I know better than to trust."

Dr. Star took this as a promising, even if deemed 'stupid', beginning. She took Mary through a few more event memories, asking similar questions each time and looking for a pattern to Mary's internal lashings. They did the relaxation technique again at the end, and Mary walked out of the session feeling like a wet rag that was wrung out too hard. Limp and thin.

"Jesus," she hissed on the bus ride home, "I have to go back and do that again in four days. I'm going to need some whiskey."

The rest of the day improved slightly with a productive walk/jog to the pier and a bike ride downtown. Mary bought a simple frame for the sketch she had done of Marshall at his desk and stuck a sticky note to it reading "Slacker", packed it in a small box and sent it to him. She just knew it would be perched on the corner of his desk by Monday. Sent him a baggie full of sand yesterday for no good reason than to confuse him…liked to keep him guessing.

A headache was brewing by dinnertime, so she took some Tylenol and a cool rag and settled in for a night of movie watching. Never one to watch anything even hinting at seriousness or mushiness, Mary was faced with slim pickings once the chick flicks were eliminated. Had to toss aside the horror films too…didn't like those either.

"Yeah, I'm gonna watch a movie where the solitary chick in the beach house gets offed," she sneered to herself as she picked through the titles, "that's a brilliant idea."

She finally picked one called "Love, Actually" because the actors were good and the summary sounded like it could be funny. Two hours later she fell asleep with a smile on her face and a little pile of tissues next to the couch.

*** *** *** ***

It was a hot and sticky Wednesday, and even the ocean seemed dulled and tired. Mary noted the heaviness of the air while kayaking slowly on the river and remembered Barney saying it was storm brewing weather. She grimaced as she kept an eye on the sky. Storms made her nervous, especially the wind, but she refused to say she was scared of them. Mary rationalized that there was actual danger there so her trepidation wasn't complete unfounded.

The kayak rides were becoming longer and easier, and this time she had stayed out for a whole hour. The college kid congratulated her on the accomplishment, and was impressed that she had gotten it out of the water on her own. Mary proudly displayed her muscles and he blushed.

She had received some item in the mail from Marshall each day, pictures from Taos on Monday, another sweet note yesterday and a bobble head Dopey today. She was going to have to clarify that one with him.

The damn headache was back, and Mary knew it was hormonal as she hadn't yet gotten back on a regular schedule since the shooting. The reminder made her write another item onto her grocery list, though, as she thought of Marshall's anticipated visit. Had to smile with that one.

By nightfall, the clouds were starting to build to the west and Mary flipped on the Weather Channel to check for impending doom. It looked like most of the action would stay north of them, but she knew she wouldn't sleep well tonight.

Between the dreams and the crash of thunder, Mary wasn't sure what prompted her shout and mad scramble out of the bed. It was Damien in the hallway this time, horribly disfigured and loping at her as his joints moved strangely and she shuddered in the too warm house as the vision was too long to fade. Wiping her face with a towel, she filled a glass of water in the bathroom as another lightning flash made her jump. The storm was close, if the weight of the atmosphere told the correct story, and Mary flipped a few more lights on as she made sure the windows were closed against the almost certain rain.

Leaving the living room lamp on, she retreated again to the bedroom and glanced at her cell phone on the nightstand, just making sure she had it close by. Not planning to call anyone…but just in case. The wind picked up suddenly as the front caught the island, and the cottage made unfamiliar sounds with the shifts and rattles of its frame. Creaks in the kitchen had her heart pounding and she tried to slow her breathing with the mantra, "It's just the wind…it's just the wind…"

Feeling a little like a ten year old, Mary almost put the sheet over her head with the next flash of lightning. Mentally shaking herself in a semblance of reason, she tried to use the relaxation technique from the counseling session the day before. Unfortunately, the journey to the happy place was cut short by a particularly unhappy crack of thunder with a brutally bright flash of lighting as the power went out. Mary squeaked, grabbed her cell and curled up burrowed under the covers.

There was no way in hell she was going to call Marshall, but texting seemed like a good idea. It was two in the morning her time, so he was likely still awake.

Marshall was dozing in front of the TV when his phone chirped with a text message. Blinking slowly, he tried to think of who it would be as he wandered over to the phone. His brow furrowed further as he saw it was Mary. It must be two in the morning there…trouble, and he was wide awake to read the line.

"_Don't call. Just say hi to let me know you're there._" Something was up, but he relaxed slightly.

"_What's up?_"

"_Bad dreams…bad storm…powers out_"

Grimacing, Marshall really wanted to call her, but he knew she was trying to push through herself with only minimal support. He had seen her tense and jump during thunderstorms, never admitting to being scared of them, but actions spoke louder than words. In combination with nightmares and no power, she was probably burrowed under her covers with her cell phone.

"_You're under the covers, aren't you?_" trying to relax her with humor.

Mary had to laugh a little at that. He knew her way too well. Thinking randomly, she tossed a curve ball.

"_Why Dopey?_"

Marshall's brain had to run a few laps to catch up, but then he smiled.

"_Grumpy was too obviou_s."

"_Ass._" Mary was smiling now even with the lightning. The little glow of the screen and the communication allowing the storm to stay outside.

"_Did you know Dopey was also mute? And originally drawn with two different colored eyes?_" Marshall grinned as he thought that ought to irritate her and provide distraction.

"_Why do you know that? You are such a geek._"

"_Geeks do it wearing pocket protectors._" he saw that on a t-shirt once and liked it.

"_I put those on the grocery list today._" she wore an evil grin.

Marshall blew out a breath as he glared at the phone with humor, "_You're going to scandalize the baggers!_"

"_I only plan on scandalizing you."_

"_Giddy up!"_

Mary gradually realized the thunder was fading and the wind had let up as the rain began to fall. It was heavy at first, but the water on the eaves and in the gutter was soothing instead of irritating, and she poked her head back out from under the covers. Still no power, but in the absence of the storm it wasn't as ominous.

Marshall noted her response was not as rapid as before and wondered what she was doing. Waiting, he was almost ready to send another text when hers came through.

"_Storm passing. Raining now and much better. Are there more?_" She knew he could pull up the radar on his laptop.

Marshall sat down with the computer and pulled up the NOAA page to type in the zip code as Mary waited.

"_That was the main line. Nothing behind it except rain and maybe a few quiet rumbles. A lot cooler tomorrow._"

"_Good day for a plantation tour._" Mary was really tired now as the adrenaline and anxiety faded away. She was proud of herself too. Didn't entirely freak out.

"_Those are amazing. Definite go see._"

"_Gonna try the sleeping again. Thanks, partner_."

"_Always…anytime._"

They dueled goodnights until Mary snarled at her screen and refused to type another one. He had come through for her again and she was even more sure of her decision to trust in him than she was two days before. Sleep came surprisingly easily and deeply, and Mary didn't even stir as a smaller storm blew through an hour later.

Marshall was glad she had reached out for him, glad to be her backup yet again. He yawned and realized he should hit the sack as the Phoenix Marshal would be at the office to meet him and get briefed on the witness by seven in the morning.

*** *** ***

Marshall called her as promised on Thursday to tell her about the transport and the trainee. Mary's training took over and she made him go through the details with her so she was assured of his safety. They had always transported their witnesses together since they had partnered up, and she just worried about him without her. Trainees could be unpredictable and spooky in a jacked up situation, but Mary felt a little better when Marshall told her the Phoenix Inspector was a ten year veteran of the Fugitive Task Force instead of a fresh faced intel or security transfer. She made him promise to text her when they accomplished the transfer and when he got back home. Mary heard him roll his eyes, insulted his parentage and Marshall laughed for the normalcy.

The package of Kansas City BBQ ribs arrived on Friday and Mary mentally promised to be Marshall's sex slave six ways from Sunday. She put half in the freezer for when he got there, and cooked a large plate full for her own dinner that night. The ribs, a bottle of beer and crisp fall air made for a picture perfect evening, and Mary liked her fingers contentedly as she watched the clouds glow with the sunset. The beer went straight to her head as she hadn't had any alcohol in over a month, and the delightful buzz just added to her enjoyment of the evening.

Her second session of EMDR had been less stressful, and she finally felt like she could see the direction it would take her. It was going to work, and she was going to be fine. Dr. Star even assured her she could keep her anger.

By Saturday evening she was dancing around the kitchen a bit as there were less than seven days to cross off on the calendar now. Singing with the radio as she shrugged into her jacket and grabbed a blanket to head downtown for a concert on the beach front. Something to do, and the neighbors seemed to think it was one of the social events of the season.

She was still singing as she walked, "My momma said don't lose you…"

*** *** *** ***

The witness transport was completely uneventful except for a flat tire, and Marshall liked the new Inspector. He was skilled, intelligent and fairly unflappable. There wasn't much he didn't already know, so the men spent most of their time trading stories and anecdotes. The Phoenix Marshal asked about Mary and what had happened and Marshall gave him the bare bones of the story without too much detail. Marshall was surprised to learn the other man had lost his first partner to a bust gone bad after a five year stint together. It certainly put him and Mary into perspective, and he looked forward to getting his ass out to Georgia.

He wisely obeyed her instructions to text, and when he got home on Sunday he had one letter and a package waiting. The letter had him laughing out loud and hoping the townsfolk survived her. He opened the small package, snorted at the sticky note, then sat quietly to study the sketch.

He was at his desk staring towards where Eleanor would be. The detail was amazing…a pencil in hand, items on his desk exact, wrinkles and shading of the clothing almost real…and the pensive look on his face had him wondering what she thought he was thinking about.

It sat on the corner of his desk Monday morning as Mary predicted, and both Stan and Eleanor thought he was kidding when he told them Mary had drawn it. They kept coming by to look at it throughout the day and Marshall just smiled.

The house closed on Tuesday, and Marshall held the new key in his hand by Wednesday morning. Walking into a new home the first time after it was emptied of it's former occupants was an exercise in claiming the new space. Slowly strolling through each room to note its quirks and delights, and he smiled while recalling a friend in college saying you had to pee in all the bathrooms to mark your territory.

He would fill a large portion of the house with his belongings, but still would have two empty bedrooms and a lot of space for Mary to add her own things if she decided to stay. He was getting a little more apprehensive about her decision. She was succeeding in her endeavor to regain independence, which delighted him, but it also meant she may need to live on her own again for a while to complete the task. Taking a deep breath, Marshall gazed out over the pool to the rolling foothills and told himself it would be okay. He planned to coax her here eventually if she didn't stay right away, planned to coax her to him permanently and officially if he had his way.

Eyebrows raised at himself as he headed back inside, Marshall realized he had no idea what her reaction to that event would be. Something to think about later, and he turned his mind to the monumental task of moving all his things to the new location in two days. He did not want to return to his old house for a single thing after Friday night. His plane ticket landed him in Savannah Saturday afternoon, but he had to leave Albuquerque by eight that morning. If Stan wondered why Marshall was taking two weeks of vacation to go see Mary, he didn't ask, but Marshall suspected there would have to be a discussion sometime soon regarding the partners' relationship. Something else to think about later.

*** *** *** ***

Mary's returning strength and stamina were joined by her healing psyche as she slowly gathered a sense of competence and self confidence to her. The memories were still bad, but she was able to think about them with a bit more objectivity and clarity, no longer feeling beaten down and defeated when the scenarios played through her mind. The magic wand really did contain some pixie dust.

She received the small charcoal art set on Monday, and was overcome with a decent dose of emotion as she gazed at the gift on the kitchen table. It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever given her, and this whole new world of being loved and cared for suddenly seemed overwhelming. It was just difficult to reconcile the independence with the intimacy of a relationship. With Raph, when she left the house he was no longer on her radar and she now knew she wasn't on his…only connected when they were physically connected. It was so different with Marshall.

He was thinking about her as she was nearly across the country and she couldn't not think about him if she tried. She even received a postcard from him each day he was on the transport. Mary knew she would never be that good at this and it worried her that he may expect that. He'd only asked for her to let him take care of her, she remembered, and she hoped fulfilling that request allowed her room for enormous error. Maybe she was thinking too much and should just take Kelly's advice and let herself feel instead. He knew who she was, and Mary had come too far in the past two weeks to slide into doubt and fearfulness now.

It was now Wednesday, and she had seen the plantations, the old town district of Savannah, some lighthouses and a half dozen other small side trips to take in the sights in her time here. The ladies at the local sandwich shop knew her by name and Barney gave her an extra scoop for free with a wink as she returned from kayaking yesterday. She liked Barney.

Mary could kayak for over an hour and the jog to the pier and back now only took thirty minutes. She wasn't close to top form, but her body was remembering quickly and there was hardly a twinge of discomfort with activity any more. The salt water helped heal her wounds a little more quickly, and the red line down her middle had faded to pink as the skin smoothed. She had gotten her hair trimmed and colored, gained about seven pounds, and with the slight tan she thought she looked just about back to normal. It was encouraging and empowering and she now sung in the shower as her body was finally recognizable as her own.

*** *** *** ***

The partners talked on the phone for three hours Thursday night as they regaled each other with the past week's adventures. Marshall was going to tell her about the house while he was there with her, so had to be careful not to spill the beans as he tried to focus on work stories for now.

They were both excited about the upcoming trip on Saturday, and at one point the discussion degraded into a purely lust charged tease regarding who got top first. Both parties were flushed and too warm by the time they got themselves back under control. Mary was delighted at Marshall's lewdness and Marshall just delighted.

She asked him to check in on Jinx and Brandi at their new place before he left, and Marshall asked her to pick up a list of groceries he planned to use for dinners after he got there. It was easy, and the goodbyes weren't as hard when they knew they'd see each other in two days.

Mary sat turning the nautilus shell in her hands after getting off the phone with Marshall. His "I love you" still rang in her ears, and she hoped he had heard hers in her promises. Mary was never good with saying the words, but he seemed to be able to hear them anyway. This is what she came back for, Mary knew, why she turned and walked away from the horizon.

* * *

***** Oh boy, oh boy! The reunion will be a lot of things, I'm sure...who's excited??! MadeofStars, I hope the therapy session was too far off...wanted to do you proud :D.*****

***** You have all been wonderful for keeping me fed with REVIEWS! Thank you thank you :D *****


	36. Something to Talk About

***** Oh allelujah, the Mann has landed!! This is the t-rated version, folks...not going to change the rating now. There will be an extended, M-rated version posted in just a little bit as an independent post. May take a little longer to hit the site. It will extend the scene for your reading *ahem* pleasure. *****

* * *

Let's give them something to talk about  
A little mystery to figure out  
Let's give them something to talk about  
How about love, love, love, love?

--- Let's Give Them Something to Talk About, Bonnie Raitt

* * *

She sat on the rocking chair as early evening approached and tried to corral the butterflies in her stomach and wipe the stupid grin off her face. Why in the world she felt this obnoxiously nervous about seeing the man who had been nearly attached to her hip for the last four years, she didn't know. Sure, they had said they loved each other and had shared some kisses and caresses, but this was still the same man who she shot spitballs at and called a moron at least once a day. The tall, gangly cowboy who secretly flipped her off and flashed obscene gestures during monthly staff meetings until she was nearly crying with suppressed laughter.

Mary had shared hotel rooms with him, fought beside him, bled on him and cried on him as they moved through the years. He had seen her at her worst, and she him, and the woman on the porch tried to pinpoint the thing that must've changed to make her feel as though she would jump out of her skin if he didn't get here in the next few minutes. It wasn't like she was going to change as they jumped into this new dimension of their relationship, and hoped he wasn't planning on it either.

Maybe it was like that line from Marshall's favorite retro TV show, "space…the final frontier…". Mary smiled and chuckled as she could see the beginning of the show in her mind since they had watched it so many times. She and Marshall were taking the plunge into the one part of their relationship always avoided. They had talked about it, teased about it and even been accused of it by many, but neither of them had ever thought to cross that boundary beyond silly games or make believe. This would be real, and Mary had no delusions they would be able to hold out more than a few hours once he got here. That thought sent another chill up her spine as her body tightened in anticipation.

It wasn't just the sex though…it would be more than that. Mary knew one of the reasons she had never even considered having sex with Marshall was that she was emotionally attached to him. It would tie her to him, she knew, and she had always made sure to keep sex and emotion separate.

Mary had been surprised to learn during her therapy sessions that her revulsion at being used by Damien was partly due to the fact she had still separated the sexual aspect of her relationship with Raphael from the emotional aspect. She now looked back and could only see Damien when remembering sexual moments, whereas she recalled Raphael when remembering emotional moments. It was still confusing, but when she experimented, it would always be Damien's face in her bed no matter how hard she tried to envision Raph.

Shaking off dark thoughts, Mary closed her eyes to picture her partner. Making love to Marshall was going to be…binding, in some way. A good way, an exciting way…but it was certainly that unknown frontier.

An unfamiliar car turned down the street and Mary giggled, then tried to compose herself, planning to play it cool. Her stomach, however, now housed butterflies the size of small children.

*** *** *** ***

Marshall usually slept on plane trips, sometimes even falling into a light doze before takeoff if the airport was busy. No such luck today as he found himself looking out the window every half hour or so to see how the landmasses had changed and pinpoint their location. By the time the rolling hills of the southern Mississippi Valley came into view, he was having trouble wiping the ever present grin off his face.

He had wanted to see her with every molecule of his being since the day she left, and even though the past few weeks had been incredibly refreshing, rejuvenating and revealing, Marshall just needed to see her face and feel her in his arms. Wanted to see the grin, the sneer and the look of appalled disbelief that so entertained him most days. Wanted to look up and see those mossy eyes narrowed at him in either discontent or soon to be mischief. Wanted to bump shoulders as they walked, kick her under the table at lunch and pull her hair just to see if he was fast enough to avoid the reflexive punch.

And, to be honest, he wanted to get his hands on her ass. Remembering the feel of it under his palms and snuggled against his groin at night, Marshall shifted discreetly in his seat as he took a drink of cold water. He had dreamed of making love to Mary for a long time now, the ways he would please her, and knowing it would be reality at some point in the near future was exquisite torture. He probably wouldn't even last past the heavy petting the first time and hoped she would understand. Smiling to himself, Marshall imagined the situation would be met with mutual hilarity.

He had butterflies in his stomach and was a bit twitchy by the time the pilot announced their descent into Savannah, and he wondered why this woman could make him feel like a seventeen year old boy on his first prom date. He guessed it was because he had offered her everything except his body up to this point, and once he handed that over he would be hers. Already unable to separate himself from her, this final act of intimacy was going to seal the deal and he would belong to her until the day he died he was sure.

Marshall planned to go to his fate with a smile firmly planted on his face and a blonde firmly planted on his lap.

The wait for his luggage was too long, the wait for the rental car unbearable, and the drive out to Tybee island seemed endless. The island rarely changed, and Marshall felt his shoulders relax and his head clear as he rolled down the windows to breathe in the salt air and hear the waves. In addition to being with the woman he loved for the next two weeks, the ocean air would soothe his soul and scrub away the last of the stains left over from the last two months.

Turning down the lane to the cottage, Marshall could see her on the porch as she levered out of the rocker and stood leaning against the porch column. His pulse raced and he was sure his jaw would crack with the smile that overtook his face. It was finally Mary.

*** *** *** ***

Mary leaned against the porch post with one arm, the other on her hip as she smiled down at her partner exiting the car, chuckling slightly as he bumped his head on the roof trying to gracefully unfold his lanky frame.

"You know you don't fit into those little toy cars, nitwit, why do you insist on renting them?"

Marshall turned to look at her while rubbing his head and had to catch his breath. Tanned now, some muscle and weight put back on, and her eyes danced with the grin on her lips as she teased him. Mary wore a t-shirt and some loose cotton pants with a pair of flip flops and the breeze ruffled her hair. She was stunning, and he had forgotten how alive and breathtakingly beautiful she was.

"They're good for the environment and you look beautiful."

Laughing at his rapid fire delivery, Mary shared in the admiration. Marshall had on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt with the ever present belt and boots. His lean body looked a bit more solid, and Mary could see he finally been able to eat and rest properly.

"You don't look half bad yourself."

"You going to come down here to greet me properly?" He had moved to the bottom of the three steps and held out his arms with a daring look.

Mary narrowed her eyes, took one step down and launched herself at him as he grunted in surprise.

Marshall caught her, of course, stumbled back a step or two then wrapped his arms around her and spun her around as she laughed.

"If I knew you were going to Kamikaze me I would've been prepared." he chuckled, burying his head in her hair as her feet slowly slid to the ground.

"Never want you to say I'm predictable, now, do I?" Mary had her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled back so she could look at him. His warmth and strength just surrounded her and she felt more content than she had in a long while.

Marshall couldn't hold her close enough, she felt so good wrapped up against him…smelled good too. Sunshine, shampoo and salt, and he breathed it in deeply before tilting his head up to look down at her. Without her heels, she was a good six inches shorter than he. Staring at her, Marshall saw her eyes get shy as she whispered, "Hi."

His blue eyes were steady on hers, and Mary knew what she saw in them as she uttered the simple greeting.

"Hi." he whispered back. "_This…_" she thought.

Marshall kept one arm holding her to him as he used the other to brush her hair away from her face and tuck a strand behind her ear, then slid his hand behind her neck to anchor her head as he bent down to kiss her.

"_Gentlemen, start your engines…"_ echoed through his head as all engines including the afterburners went from zero to sixty as his lips covered hers. Sweet, soft, wet…his coherent thoughts scattered to be replaced by sensation, and he moaned in delight when her fingers wove through his hair to pull him down to her.

Marshall's kiss propelled her right into throbbing need, and Mary whispered, "Jesus" into his mouth as her lips moved to match his. She pressed into him and stood on her tiptoes while pulling him down slightly to reach him better.

They tasted and nibbled in greeting, again relearning the subtle cues of pace and likes, then Marshall deepened the kiss and parted her lips with his tongue to swirl and suckle while Mary groaned and joined him. His hand slowly slid down her back to finally cup her bottom, and he pressed her into him with a slow, low moan.

She broke the kiss suddenly, face flushed and lips swollen with desire while catching her breath, "We are going to give the Beyers quite the show in a few minutes unless you'd rather continue this inside." referring to the neighbors in the next lot.

He didn't let go of her, and considered throwing her to the sand for a moment, "Let's grab my stuff and mosey on in." reluctantly releasing her to pop the trunk of the car.

Mary insisted on carrying something since she could, and they schlepped Marshalls bags into the cottage to deposit them on the bed in Mary's room, chatting about his flight on the way in.

Marshall turned to grab her again and nuzzled her neck as she giggled, ticklish in a spot she wasn't aware of, then whispered into her ear making her shiver, "As much as I want to throw you down on that bed and not let you up until next week, I am going to jump into a shower first."

"And you think I won't just come in there with you?" she teased.

"Have you seen that shower?"

Mary knew what he meant. It was a stand up shower stall that was barely comfortable for one, and she had to concede to him, "Fine. But I'm just going to get you all dirty and sweaty again, you know."

She ran her hands up under his shirt and kissed his neck where it dimpled between his collarbones. He growled and grabbed her wayward wrists, "I'm counting on it." turned to sidestep her and slipped into the bathroom to shut and lock the door.

Mary yelled, "You're going to pay for that!"

"I hope so!"

Marshall had to shower the grime of travel off before he got too engrossed in Mary, and he didn't trust her not to join him. If she managed to squeeze in, he wasn't sure they'd be able to get out.

Mary was disappointed he got away, but then thought it may have been a good thing to take a minute to cool back down. The man ramped her up more quickly than she could ever remember any man doing, and her libido was like a neglected child right now…demanding, insistent and insatiable. Marshall was downright delicious, and Mary smiled at the sudden thought of the three bags of Dove chocolates he had sent her while she was here. Maybe she could use those later, she thought, and a bigger grin spread across her face as she bit her bottom lip with ideas.

Moving into the kitchen to pour them both some ice tea, Mary's gaze was caught by a couple of kids flying kites out on the dunes. The kites dipped and dove through the eddies of the ocean breeze, and she was oddly fascinated by the swirling tails and wings of the flying objects. The rippling colors and near violence of the struggles with air and tether made her think of her journey the past few weeks. "_No more strings today,_" Mary decided, "_I'm going to fly free._"

She didn't hear him come up behind her, and she jumped as he slid his hands around her to grab a glass of tea, "Jesus, Marshall, that's a good way to end up singing soprano."

"I've got you trapped against the counter, you can't get to me." his logical response as he enjoyed a drink of tea while keeping one arm around her waist.

"You don't really want to test that theory, do you?" Mary knew about three ways to quickly gain the upper hand from the position she was in.

"Only if it's going to end up with you naked on the counter and me torturing you with ice cubes." Marshall muttered into her ear.

Libido stands up to say, "yes, please!" Mary sucked in a breath and wiggled around to face him, still trapped firmly against the counter.

"Are you always going to be like this after a long trip, because if you are I'm buying you a lot of airline tickets."

Marshall smiled down at her, set down his tea and put both hands on her hips, "It's the searches at security. They just turn me on."

"You're an idiot," Mary took in the sight of him; t-shirt, jeans and barefoot with damp hair and smoldering eyes, and she knew the ice tea could just damn well wait, "But you're **my **idiot." Reaching up, she drew him down to her to continue what they had started outside.

* * *

***** Oh, yeehaw! Again...go to the extended scene to continue where this leaves off. You won't miss any story line if you don't like the M rating...just the hot and steamy zest. Please, please REVIEW! I hope the reunion was sweet enough :) *****


	37. Tonight is Your Night

***** I have had 900 hits today without even posting a new chapter yet...you all ROCK!! Thank you thank you thank you. *****

***** This chapter is a bit shorter as I thought their first time together really deserves its own chapter, don't you?. It's really meant to be a long, descriptive chapter, but that'll have to go into the extended scene post. It picks up right at the end of activities in the kitchen. The extended scene will be nearly identical, but with A LOT more zest! *****

* * *

Baby tonight is your night  
And I will do you right  
Just make a wish on your night  
Anything that you ask  
I will give you the love of your life

---I'll Make Love to You, Boyz II Men

* * *

Kisses and caresses became more hurried and interspersed with moans and growls, Marshall following through with his threat to creatively employ ice cubes, and Mary's shirt being shed in the process.

As usual, Mary was able to get her way and delighted in her opportunity to finally please Marshall…please him so well he was ready to fall over where he stood against the counter and slowly released her hair. It was the side of him she hadn't yet seen and he was beautiful.

Marshall's eyes were closed with a look of intense pleasure and concentration, mouth open as he panted and groaned breathlessly. Mary steadied him with one arm while she stood and grabbed a chair with the other. Placing it next to him, she coaxed him to sit before he fell over, and Marshall oozed into the seat while Mary stood straddled over his thighs with a huge grin.

She took his face in her hands, and as he opened his eyes to gaze at the goddess before him she spoke.

"Welcome to Georgia, Cowboy."

His hands crawled up the back of her thighs to end up resting on her hips, "I don't remember that being the official state greeting, but I'd vote to keep it."

Mary studied him in the darkening kitchen, his eyes half lidded and dark blue with desire, cheeks flushed and a crooked grin. Caring for her, waiting for her, following her…

"I love you." She whispered, lowering her head to kiss him softly and draw her tongue along his lower lip.

Marshall's hands skimmed up to grasp her ribcage as her words made him ache again already. Kisses and nibbles shared as she stood over him. Suddenly, Mary stepped back and turned sideways as he reached for her.

"Are you just going to sit there all night?" she teased.

He wasn't entirely sure his legs would support him yet, so he stalled, "What did you have in mind?"

A moment later it wouldn't have mattered if his legs were made of jello, Marshall would've found a way to sprint. She did a slow strip tease and her bra was on the ground as she tempted him to her. Intent upon his target with a predatory gleam in his eye, he rose from the chair, hitched up his jeans and began to stalk towards her. Oh no, he was not yet started with Mary Shannon.

Mary retained her look of challenge as her partner moved towards her, then she saw him lean in a way that she recognized too well. _"Oh shit!"_ she thought as she slid back rapidly with a yelp and turned to lope to towards the bedroom. She was laughing as she heard his footsteps padding swiftly behind her. Leaping into the bed as he caught her, they went down in a tangled heap of half naked limbs.

Marshall was thoroughly enjoying this chase, and zeroed in on his captured prey's sweet spots where he knew she was exquisitely ticklish. Mary squirmed and squealed, ineffectually grabbing at his hands and trying to roll away. Their laughter infused the cottage.

"Say, 'My partner is a weak male and I shall not taunt him with my boobies.'" Marshall instructed her between breaths, continuing to laugh at her as she tried to gasp out the phrase. The body parts of interest swaying and jiggling deliciously in front of his eyes.

She was in gleeful bliss, but squirmed just the wrong way and a familiar jolt of hot pain lanced through her abdomen. The pains were rare now, and only with excessive exercise, and Mary knew they faded almost immediately and now ignored them as a residual effect of the healing muscles. The involuntary flinch and gasp couldn't be hidden, though, and Marshall immediately ceased manhandling her to look at her with concern.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Don't even go there," Mary instructed with narrowed eyes, "you know how it is with injuries, sometimes they just twinge or cramp unexpectedly. It's already gone and I'm perfectly fine."

She didn't look anything but tousled, aroused and irritated, but Marshall hesitated for just a moment longer as he studied her.

She ran her hands through his hair as she was not going to let him get away, "If you're worried about it, why don't you kiss it and make it better?" raising her eyebrows expectantly.

He thought that was a stellar idea, and grinned slyly as he looked down at her lying on her back and slowly ran his fingers down the faint line of a scar as she shivered. No one had touched it besides her, and Mary's nerves jumped at the feather light caress Marshall traced along the tender skin.

He not only kissed it, he tasted her and included more than just her scar. Mary writhed for reasons other than being tickled, and Marshall's body regrouped for this new occasion.

Clothes were shed, and soon the two people sighed and tangled themselves together in mutual exploration and delight. Weeks, months…years of waiting translated into aching need that could only be satisfied by each other. Covers slid to the floor, pillows piled up against the headboard, wrappers tossed on the nightstand, and sweaty bodies slid and fit into each other with sighs, moans and muffled curses…limbs tightening and straining. Release came with mutual cries, actual tears escaping with the understanding that the future would be ever better than the past.

The ringing in his ears slowly faded as he became aware of his own breathing again, still fast as his heart found its rhythm. The intensity and utter abandonment of the moment was like nothing he had experienced before, and Marshall had fallen into the abyss of ecstasy with eyes squeezed shut. Mary was soft and panting beneath him, and he slowly slid off of her, not wanting to rest his full weight on her abdomen, rolling onto his back for a few minutes to cool off and wait for the room to stop spinning before standing to visit the bathroom. Mary barely moved, only occasionally moaning slowly and softly as her eyes remained closed with her limbs splayed on the bed. She looked utterly relaxed and spent and the small smile that curled her lips had him feeling a thousand ways possessive and protective. Bound.

"Come back to bed." she commanded softly without opening her eyes.

Mary had slowly come to awareness as Marshall slid to the side, missing his weight and warmth. She was floating in a languid pool of pleasure, never having felt quite this satisfied before and already wanting more, knowing she would never get enough of this man she now called a lover. Never imagining she'd want another…only him.

Her stomach muscles were aching and burning with effort, but she wouldn't tell him that. This sort of exercise was better than hundreds of sit ups and Mary just figured she'd have to get a lot of practice to strengthen things up. Not really able to move, she coaxed Marshall back to bed as she knew he was standing there looking at her.

Of course obeying, Marshall slid back in next to her after opening the window to let in a breeze. They had heated up the room nicely, and the coolness of the night air was a treat. He rolled over to lever up on one elbow and trace her face with his index finger. Mary smiled with the attention, then wrinkled her nose and swatted his hand as he tickled her nose to get her to open her eyes.

"Most people like to cuddle after sex, idiot." She scolded and played with his chest hair.

"I wanted to see your eyes." he chuckled and traced her hipbone with a hand thrown across her abdomen.

Looking up at him, Mary knew what he would see. Happiness, contentment, love, surrender…All things she knew she now had because of a fateful leap that ended up being a lot less scary than she had thought.

"Yep," he said, with a knowing grin, "I'm pretty sure I just spoiled you for any other man."

"Does that mean I'm stuck with you now?" grimacing for effect, but internally hoping he would say yes. She didn't want anyone else and hoped he didn't either.

Marshall huffed, "According to a casual observer, it's** me **who's considered stuck with **you**."

"Damn straight." she grinned.

Marshall smiled at the meaning behind her statement, confirming the unspoken decision to be just for each other. It was a step in the right direction.

Trying to roll towards him as the breeze was just a bit too cool now and she sought his warmth, Mary found it impossible to pull herself over and grunted with the effort. Marshall reached over to pull her to him while he chastised her.

"See, I knew you were hurting. It was too soon."

"I'm just sore, nitwit. Haven't used those muscles like that since they were rearranged," replied Mary and she looked up to meet his eyes, "I'm just going to have to practice a lot, but I'll need to take the top for the rest of the night."

"When I'm ready to saddle up again, I'll gladly give you the reins, Cowgirl." Marshall ran his hand down her back and curve of her bottom to grab her thigh and pull her leg over his as her head rested on his chest.

Mary snuggled into him, and he just enjoyed her softness pressed against him. She fit him perfectly, her browned skin a sharp contrast to his paleness…rounded curves atop sharp angles…seamless. Smoothing her hair, Marshall continued to caress her slowly and soon heard her breathing deepen and slow as she was lulled into sleep. He followed soon afterwards, dreams mingling with reality.

*** *** *** ***

Mary took advantage of his realistic dreams a while later, awaking him with a gasp as she saddled up and took the reins and Marshall just held on and prayed. He paid her back with skills that made her pull the fitted sheets right off the bed, carrying out his promise to devour her all night. The pocket protector supply dwindled, and by dawn they were limp and sated and left with only a pillow and a stray sheet still on the bed.

Marshall was curled around her sleeping form and his eyes fell on the pictures on the dresser that she looked at every day. His heart ached for the woman in his arms and he whispered "I'll always love you" as they drifted off to sleep.

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*****Well, I don't know about you, but I feel better! :D Do you want the extended scene? Of course you do :) It will be there, I promise. Let me know how I'm doin'...REVIEW! *****


	38. The One I Have Decided

***** SO EXCITED! The site's document uploader had been down for the last few days folks...that' why I didn't post as usual! Please don't think I forgot about you...wouldn't happen!! I had this story timed to end with my post today, but we're now a few days behind and I'm not going to multichapter post so...yep, gonna have to keep reading a day at a time ;) Thank you for waiting for me!!!*****

***** Mary and Marshall spend some time on the island and learning about each other. It's not perfect, but it's them. *****

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Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains  
I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind  
Your sweet moonbeam, the smell of you in every single dream I dream  
I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind

--- Hey Soul Sister, Train

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"You're yanking my chain, right?" Mary glanced at him suspiciously as they walked towards the kayak shop.

"Scouts honor." Marshall held up two fingers.

"You know, I'm starting to think you were never a boy scout, Slick. Don't they teach you canoeing and stuff to get those badges?"

Marshall and Mary had left the cottage early on Monday to get in a kayaking outing, and Mary had been surprised to learn Marshall had never been on one of the plastic boats. They had walked towards town, then onto the kayak shop a little further as Mary became more suspicious he was messing with her. Tricking her into letting her guard down so he could win their newest bet.

Talking about all of her adventures the night before, Marshall teased he could beat her in a kayak race and she couldn't not rise to the challenge. Her competitive nature predictable as Old Faithful, and Mary was starting to think she was being played.

"Let me reiterate, I have never had relations with those kayaks." he droned and she bumped him onto the grass for the exaggeration.

"Well, don't expect any pity from me, buddy. I'm out to win this. The stakes are too high." She tossed her head in the breeze and her flying hair caught his eye.

Regarding her from a sideways glance, Marshall enjoyed the curve of her neck and the shine in her hair, her chin jutted forward in challenge. The pushy bitch was almost all the way back and he smiled with the thought.

Mary saw the little smile and misinterpreted, pointing her finger at him in accusation, "See, look at you grin." Huffing, she sent a warning, "You know I don't play nice."

"Oh, but I've learned to like naughty," he growled.

That brought a crooked grin to her face, and they shared a knowing and mischievous look. Mary reached over to squeeze his ass and then took off in a jog as the rental shop came into view. Marshall pretended to be affronted and took off after her, irritated that she was faster in flip flops than he was in his beach shoes. Damn woman could run in heels too.

Mary was reliving a number of naughty moments during her short jog to the building, and her cheeks heated up a little more than from the exercise. She and Marshall had spent the majority of Sunday tangled in sheets and each other with breaks for food and a walk to the pier in the early evening. She was sore in so many places today…all of them good. There was a lot of time to make up for, and the chemistry between them was like nothing she had ever experienced before…electrifying with a connection that defied description. She never had to wait for him, or him for her, and they didn't find a single way in which they didn't fit together.

Fanning herself while waiting for him to catch up, Mary had to chuckle at his lanky form trying to run in those slip on shoes. He was pale in his swim trunks and t-shirt, and she could see how someone could mistake his leanness for awkwardness. The man was made of muscle though, she had found, and he was more graceful and quick than he let on. He was also fairly flexible and knew some tricks that had blown her mind, things she had never done and things she didn't know you could do. Mary had teased him about being a secret porn star or gigolo to know what he did, but Marshall assured her he just knew what would feel good…and he read a lot of books, not all of them dry and boring.

Marshall approached her and just knew what she was thinking about by the satisfied grin on her face. He was a bit stiff this morning from all their activity over the last thirty six hours, and every pull and ache reminded him of their fascinating explorations of each other. He had not been able to get enough of her, still hadn't, and she responded to everything he did with such abandonment he could only drown in wonder. Women entranced him in general, and Mary held him purely spellbound. She wasn't shy, and she enjoyed pleasing him with the same enthusiasm she displayed while being pleasured. She had explored every part of him with intensity, and he had done things he never even knew he could do.

On a side note, Marshall reminded himself to send a thank you note to the college roommate who so long ago had given him a copy of the Kama Sutra. His thirst for knowledge had sure come in handy this time.

Looking down at her as he joined her, Marshall drawled, "You're certainly proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"In more ways that one, sport." she twitched an eyebrow at him.

He kissed her roughly and quickly, then grabbed her hand and walked around to the front of the building.

The college kid who had greeted Mary so many times in the last few weeks smiled as he saw her approach, "Mary! Up for another hour today?"

"Hey Sean," she greeted him back, "I've got a challenge today," she reached over to pull Marshall next to her, "This numbnut thinks he can beat me in a water race. Marshall, Sean…Sean, Marshall." Mary made the intros as a formality, now ready to get into the water and prove her superiority.

Marshall shook Sean's hand and noted the appraising look the kid gave him and the extra squeeze to his hand. Trying really hard not to roll his eyes, he mentally chuckled, "_The kid's got it bad for Mary."_

"You been in a kayak before, Marshall?" Sean asked as he helped Mary unstrap her favorite from the racks.

"Nope. Figure it's not too complicated though. Stay upright, move forward."

Mary and Sean shared a little look that almost made Marshall frown, but then he remembered Mary's struggles at first and let them enjoy the mutual amusement for him. There was no way he was going to feel jealous of a twenty something beach bum who now was staring at his partner's ass as she bent down to get her paddles from the container.

"Sean," he intoned dryly, "you got a kayak that will assure me victory? " Forcing the young man to look at him instead.

"Oh, yeah. And you need one of these over here because you're tall." Sean led him to a rack across the floor and they got Marshall's kayak ready to go on the water.

Mary was already trash talking him as they got the boats into the water by the docks, and Sean was giving Marshall some hints as the tall man tried to balance his weight on the plastic craft.

"Don't help him," Mary instructed, "He's sneaky. Probably has some sort of medal in paddling or something."

"You're just a font of support, Mare."

"There're ribs riding on this bet, don't think I won't let you drown."

"At least let me get the paddling down first. Give me a fighting chance." Marshall grunted as he balanced the paddle and himself while pushing off the dock.

"You whine like a girl." Mary was showing off a little as she slowly paddled around him.

"Get him, Mary!" Sean called from the dock as they began to drift with the current.

Mary let Marshall get his balance, now pretty sure he really hadn't ever been on a kayak before. She felt about a quarter of an ounce bad for doubting him, but then perked up as she could see rib dinners in her future with the sure chance of winning now.

"Sean's smitten with you, you know." Marshall decided to distract her as he was slowly getting the hang of the motions and rhythms involved and didn't want her to notice.

"What? That's ridiculous," she glanced behind her to see the young man standing on the dock with his hands in his pockets watching them, "He's like, twenty one…max."

"Perfect. Just the right age for the older, sexy and knowledgeable woman to be a total turn on." Marshall started to pick up the pace just a bit, "Didn't you ever see The Graduate?"

Mary had noticed her partner speed up a bit, and her mind turned back to the task at hand, "Nope, but I see you getting the hang of this, so let's define this race."

They set the race limits and Marshall counted down, Mary starting before he was done like he knew she would, and they were off.

She had gotten good at the kayak, and Marshall was surprised by her strength and speed. He had a hard time keeping up if his balance was off, but when it all came together, his upper body strength far outdid hers and he started to pull ahead.

Mary could hear him gaining, and she waited until she saw him out of the corner of her eye and slapped the paddle in the water to send a spray of water over his kayak and onto his body. He shouted with the cool soaking, and his involuntary flinch made the kayak rock and Marshall had to slow down to keep himself upright. She laughed maniacally and continued to pull herself toward the goal with smooth strokes.

Devising his own plan, Marshall paddled right up behind her and bumped the tail of her boat with his own, causing her to veer sideways and she let loose a streak of invective while trying to back paddle. Chuckling and jerking his chin at her, he slid by and soaked her with his own paddles.

Mary glared at him and quickly rerouted her kayak to keep from losing ground. He was almost even with her and a little ahead and Mary now focused on ramming speed. Marshall saw her coming and yelped while trying to paddle harder, a smile firmly planted on his face. His struggles were comical, and Mary made crashing noises while she knocked the front of his boat with hers.

Unfortunately, this overbalanced them both, and the partners squealed and yelled as they overcorrected and splashed loudly into the water. Mary came up sputtering with her hair in her face, treading water and looking for her paddle as she grabbed onto the kayak. She could hear Marshall splashing also and cursing. She pushed the wet locks aside to open her eyes and looked for him, turning to see him chasing his boat as it continued to drift.

Marshall couldn't believe she capsized him, and was pleased to know she had gone in too, "See what happens when you cheat?" he teased.

"Me? You started the demolition derby, partner." Mary was pushing her kayak as she kicked towards shallower water. Marshall could stand up, but she was still too short, "I think I was winning, anyways."

They argued about who was ahead through the repeated attempts to climb back on the crafts, then finally conceded to a tie as they began the more strenuous paddling back to the docks.

Sean looked them and laughed, asking who had won, and Mary and Marshall both claimed victory again, the man staring at them in confusion as they laid blame for the incident on the other.

Of course, the strenuous activity of the morning demanded ice cream, and the partners left Sean to head downtown, drying off with the warm breeze.

Barney recognized Marshall right away, and proceeded to embarrass him by telling Mary stories of Marshall as a young boy and teenager. How he used to bring young Chrissy Saxton to the ice cream shop and buy her rootbeer floats in hopes of impressing her. Mary laughed delightedly at the spots of color on her partner's cheeks as he rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat. Barney had come over to sit with them while they ate their cones.

"You know," Barney rubbed his chin while thinking, "she married that cousin of yours…" trailing off as he tried to remember the name, then pointing his finger in the air with recall.

Mary recognized the name of Marshall's cousin and looked at him appraisingly, "That's your cousin?"

"Well, not really. It's my mom's cousin." Marshall could've locked Barney in the cooler at that point. He could see Mary working out the family tree in her head and knew it was going to be a long discussion on the way back to the cottage.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "That means your great uncle is…"

"Yeah." he cut her off with a dismissing wave of his hand.

"Why didn't I know this?" Mary knew about Marshall's father's background through stories about the Marshal service, but he had never talked about his mother's family.

He shrugged, trying to remain casual and not get her worked up, "You never asked."

Barney launched into another story that sucked Marshall into remembering also, and Mary smiled at the men as she chewed on the new piece of information about her partner. She never would've guessed he came from influence, and from what she knew of his parents, they were down to earth and low key. She had met his brother once as he came to town while traveling on business and liked him too.

Worlds apart growing up, she decided, and maybe still worlds apart in certain aspects today. Mary was sure it was a world she wouldn't fit into, then her mind turned to Brandi and Peter. Her sister had never let Peter's wealth or status bother her, and had always talked about the man glowingly for the person he was, not the life he led. Sure, Brandi had gotten a few perks…attending social events and a car… but she seemed genuinely happy and Peter was truly head over heels for her.

It wasn't like Marshall had wealth or status that set him apart, just a colorful and well known ancestry, and it was the man sitting across from her with ice cream on his lip that she loved.

Barney had left to attend to another customer, and Marshall interrupted Mary's thoughts, "Don't let that roll around in your head too much, Mare. You'll make it into something it's not."

"You don't know what I'm thinking." She huffed, not telling him about the ice cream now.

"You're probably comparing our childhoods and wondering if my family associations should matter in determining our relationship." he watched her brow furrow and knew he was dead on.

Mary wondered how he did that, "Well I already resolved it, so don't worry about it." She got up to throw away their napkins and waited for him to join her after saying goodbye to Barney.

They walked down the sidewalk in the warm sun, and Marshall laced his fingers through hers. That was one really nice thing about being out of Albuquerque, public displays of affection were allowed.

"So, did you vote me off the island?" Marshall grinned at the turn of the phrase.

"Nah, you can stay," she squeezed his hand, "but maybe you ought to give me a quick breakdown of the Mann family tree for future reference."

He was pleased she wanted to know about his family, made him more sure of her intention to stick with him, "There's some photo albums back at the cottage. We can grab them and some lunch and have a little tutorial."

They ran into two more people Marshall knew, and Mary sensed he and his family were very well liked on the island. It pleased her for some reason, normally not caring what people thought about her, but Marshall seemed to appreciate the warm smiles and updates so Mary paid attention. The last woman wanted to know when his mom would be back to the cottage, and Marshall didn't know but told her he'd let his mom know she had asked.

Mary showered off the river water as Marshall hunted down photo albums, then she made lunch while he cleaned up. They ate out on the screened in portion of the deck and spent a couple of hours pouring over pictures and laughing as Mary couldn't remember anyone's name for more than two pages. It was odd to see him in these settings looking the same as he always did, but one picture caught her eye and she tapped it.

Marshall was dressed to the nines, tux and white tie, and the photographer had captured him in a thoughtful pose at some social event probably only about five years prior. He looked regal, yet rough at the same time and she wanted to keep it.

Pulling it out for her, he was flattered, "It's from my cousin's wedding. I don't think my mom will care if you take it."

"You look very James Bond."

He affected the same awful British accent he had tried at the hospital, and Mary choked on her tea while he quoted lines from the various movies. He was ridiculous, and she just loved it.

The lazy afternoon found Mary dozing on the couch with her head in Marshall's lap as he read a book and played with her hair. He kept looking down at her and wondering how the hell he had gotten lucky enough to be where he was. She was behaving close enough to normal now that he had quit thinking it was still an aspect of PTSD attaching her to him, and when she had crawled over to whisper her love for him early this morning in the bed, Marshall knew she was his.

He had expected a more extreme reaction from her at the ice cream parlor today, but something had happened in her head to keep her reasonable and he was thankful. One touchy subject down, and now he only had to broach the subject of the new house, still not entirely sure of her answer. Well, they had nearly two weeks stretched tantalizingly in front of them, and Marshall didn't see the need to talk about everything at once.

*** *** *** ***

They spent the rest of the week similarly to the first few days, enjoying the benefits of the island and closeness of Savannah, then enjoying each other. Marshall caught Mary up on all the office activities, and she was scandalized slightly that Eleanor knew about them, but figured they had enough dirt on her and Stan to keep her quiet. Marshall still secretly hoped Eleanor and Mary would have a giant smack down someday and he'd get to watch, smiling a smile that had Mary pushing him and calling him a pervoid. She checked in with her family and again pressured Stan into taking her back sooner rather than later.

"You haven't fired your weapon in about two months, missy. You'll have to requalify before Stan will take you back." Marshall scoffed.

"I bet I could hit you in the ass."

He didn't argue.

She had a counseling session on Thursday, and when Marshall picked her up he could tell she had been crying. Mary climbed in without a word, laid her head back on the seat while buckling, and was silent. He watched her with concern as he drove back to the cottage, but she didn't speak until they pulled into the driveway.

"It's not the shooting that I'm working through, you know." her voice was quiet.

"I figured as much."

"A lot of the attack is now okay to think about, logical and like reading a book, just turn a page and read it without having to relive it."

"But not all of it." Marshall prompted, knowing she was going somewhere.

Shaking her head slowly, Mary took a deep breath and blew it out, "We went over it a few times today, but it just doesn't get any easier. It's one of the few times I've actually been terrified." She finally opened her eyes and looked over at him.

"I was sure he was going to kill me, Marshall…just knew it in my bones," staring back at the ceiling of the car now, "I've never been hit that hard before."

He remembered the bruises on her face and the split lips. It had taken a lot of force, and Marshall had been impressed she had remained conscious and not suffered a broken jaw, knowing how hard you had to hit someone to cause that much damage. It made his own jaw clench to think about it. He didn't want to touch her, didn't know what her state of mind was right now.

"Tell me what you need, Mare." he offered.

"Right now I just need to take walk by myself for a while," turning slightly to look at him then, "and I need to know you'll be here when I get back."

He met her eyes and vowed, "I'm not going anywhere…ever."

Smiling tightly, Mary reached over to squeeze his hand, "Then I'll always come back."

She slid out of the car and headed to the beach with her hands in her pockets and her head down. Marshall went to stand on the deck and watched her walk slowly towards the pier in the wind. The sea was as gray as the sky, and Mary's red t-shirt was the only spot of color on the dun colored landscape. He knew there was nothing more to do except wait for her to come back, hoping she'd find some temporary peace for the demons she wrestled today, hoping he'd be enough.

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***** Worth the wait?? I know...mainly fluffy...but they're due some fluff, don't you think? Mary's still stuck on a few hard things, and that may never change...she's changed though. Please feed me with REVIEWs!!! I had promises that folks who previewed would still review ;D...I have a goal in sight! *****


	39. And You're Still Here

***** A bit of a tear jerker. More gets asked than they counted on, and Mary finally sees the light. *****

* * *

You see everything, you see every part

You see all my light and you love my dark

You dig everything of which I'm ashamed

There's not anything to which you can't relate

And you're still here.

--- Everything, Alannis Morissette

* * *

"_So this is what it's like,_" Mary mused silently while sitting in the rocker on the veranda, "_this is how it feels when the world is right…at least for the moment._" the last trickle of thought tacked on with a soft snort as she thought about the potential chaos at home. But that was still a few days and a thousand miles away.

There was no sense of urgency to get something done, no anxiety of potential conflict within the next five minutes. Her mind wasn't an ever spinning rolodex of obligation and frustration, and her body was finally rested and whole. Mary tried to think of a time she had felt like this before and could not…because she never had. Vacation had never been a word in her vocabulary that did not automatically have the adjective 'forced' attached to it prior to this. Her time off was either spent taking care of family, taking care of a crisis, chewing her nails waiting to get back to work, or sick. And the last one was so rare she couldn't remember the last time it had happened.

Right now, today, she could sit here and enjoy the cool breeze on her face and toes while she sat wrapped in the blanket with a hot cup of coffee in her hand, watch the surfers enjoying the waves from the weekend's unsettled weather, feel the sun begin to finally chase away the rain clouds and listen to the keening of the gulls as they fought over treasures buried in the high tide debris. Mary's lips quirked into a smile as another sound approached, her partner's off key humming as he came through the front door to join her on the porch with coffee in hand and a plate of muffins.

"Your life has a soundtrack, doesn't it?" she asked him with a grin. Mary hadn't noticed how much he hummed before.

"Music is the second most powerful trigger of memories behind smell. If you think about it, you'll associate many of the most memorable events in your life with a song. That's one of the reasons so many people enjoy listening to music from their youth, it triggers the feelings of being young and carefree." Marshall spouted out the facts as he settled into the rocker next to Mary, "Also, you play different music when you're in different moods, right. You're not going to blast some Metallica when you're sad or grieving, and most folks don't exercise or throw a party with Mozart's concertos running through their ears."

Mary thought about it for a moment, and he was right, "I remember the song that popped into my head when I first met you." she laughed.

"Oh, God…" he moaned with a grimace, "do I want to know?"

Mary sang one of the lines, "…I wanna be a cowboy, and you can be my cowgirl…"

Marshall threw his head back and laughed, with Mary joining him.

He thought that was the funniest thing he had heard in a long time, truly appreciating the comparison and the foreshadowing they could never have predicted, "…My name is Ted.." he droned, and enjoyed watching Mary snort with laughter again.

"So," she began when under control, "do I have a song?"

"You have a lot of songs, depends on your mood."

"A whole CD, huh?" Mary felt rather proud for being so versatile.

"Definitely," Marshall looked over at her as he stirred the pot, "but the title track is 'Maneater' by Hall and Oats. That one goes through my brain most of the time when you enter on the scene."

Mary smiled slowly and nodded her head as she recalled the song, "Oh yeah…I like it."

"I knew you would." Marshall loved her for many reasons, and one of them was her ability to appreciate her own qualities that most people would try to change. Her balls to the wall, take no prisoner attitude for example.

He had watched her walk into a room of punks and have them lined up whimpering and cowering within minutes as she worked her magic, having intimidation down to an art form. Had seen it work on other cops and Marshals too, which always made him wonder at their competence. Mary looked, as some other song lyrics suggested, like a cool drink of water but she could be candy coated misery. She could channel him too, knowing when his patience and tolerance were ready to snap and take it upon herself to be the delivery person, relieving him of having to shed the façade. Roles firmly embraced.

"You're a damn good partner, you know that?" Marshall tossed out.

Mary had no idea where this was coming from, "Did you just figure that out?"

"Just thinking." he had gotten quiet, and Mary wasn't sure she wanted to do serious right now.

"Just eat the muffins, nitwit, it's too early in the morning to be thinking."

Marshall got up and went back inside without a word, and Mary looked at where he had been with a questioning stare. Not quite sure what just happened, but when Marshall got into these pensive moods he could get completely distracted by his own thoughts and spend hours wrapped in a fugue of introspection. She went back to rocking, then glanced over at him as he returned a few minutes later.

"Catch your train of thought?"

"Hold out your hand." Marshall instructed, his expression not quite readable.

"Why does that give me palpitations?" Mary teased.

"Just do it." He sneered.

Mary narrowed her eyes as she offered him her palm, ready to bolt if it was disgusting.

He placed the key on her palm with butterflies in his stomach. Hemming and hawing for the last two days over when to tell her about the house, his thoughts about their partnership and recovery a few minutes ago made him realize they only had four days left here. She was going to need some time to adjust to the thoughts of either moving in with him or finding a new place of her own…so was he.

Mary stared at it in confusion, then slowly said, "If this is some sappy representation of your feelings for me, I **will** use your gun to shoot you."

Marshall chuckled, then allayed her fears, "Not even I'm that pathetic. I sold the house."

The gulls cried as Mary just blinked at him for a few moments, perplexed, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Marshall shrugged and made a disgusted face, "When I got back from Taos I could smell the blood. Lost my appetite for the place, and I remembered what you said about being afraid there. I couldn't live in it any more, and I knew you wouldn't be able to stand it either." He fudged the timeline of the decision slightly, but it was still all true.

Just the fact that her fears and needs had factored into a decision like this floored her, and Mary looked at the key in her hand again as she clarified his words, "Marshall, swear to me you didn't sell your house because of me."

"What did I just say?" he wanted to make sure she was listening, "My decision was made because of both of us."

"So if I hadn't said anything about it, you still would've done this?" she looked back up at him to make sure he didn't lie.

Marshall was sincere with his reply, "Yes. It may have taken a little longer, but I would've come to the same conclusion."

Mary let out the breath she was holding, "Okay. So, this is?" she held out the key.

"A key to the new place." He was careful not to say it was his place.

"You bought a new house already? How did you sell the old one that fast?" Mary's mind was grasping around to figure that out.

"I didn't. I've got it listed though, and I found this new place and couldn't pass it up," he swallowed, nervous again, "I think you'll like it."

Mary put a lot of little pieces together to realize he had found a new house quickly so she would have somewhere to stay when she came home. A place away from her family and where Marshall would be. Not an apartment that screamed temporary, but a house that offered stability and a solid starting place. She worried her bottom lip as the tears pricked at her eyelids, again a bit overwhelmed by the kindness this man offered her.

He watched her stare at the key and could see her try to control emotions. Not knowing what was going through her mind, Marshall just waited.

Mary looked back up at him with a small smile, "Thank you. Thank you for thinking about me and letting me know I'll have a place to stay when I get back. It means a lot."

Marshall realized he needed to be a little clearer about the gift. Reaching over he took her hand and folded her fingers over the key, "It's not just a place to stay, Mary, it's a place to live."

Her eyes snapped back to his from where she had watched his hands, and Marshall saw such a turmoil of emotions he caught his breath.

Mary could not help the swell of excitement that engulfed her with his words. It snapped some of the remaining tendrils of doubt about how Marshall could possibly love her as she was, and she felt like jumping up and dancing. But with that glee came a moment of hesitation, a tug backwards from the Mary who vowed to never give up her independence or autonomy…the same Mary that tried to beat her justifiably senseless when she agreed to marry Raph. It was war.

"You're asking me to live with you?" her voice was hesitant.

Marshall smiled a smile that made her heart quiver, "Shack up, cohabitate, feng shui in tandem…whatever you want to call it."

He could see the war within her on her face and tried not to take it personally. Knew there were battles being fought that had nothing to do with him.

"Mare, do you trust me?"

"Always."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Then I know you'll make a decision that's right for you." He saw her take a breath to say something and cut her off, "Don't decide right now, because I really want you to think about it and not regret saying something now that you may want to rethink later."

Mary noted he said "right for you" and not "right for us". He wanted her to make a decision that fit her, avoiding any confusion or obligation she would feel towards their relationship. He wouldn't pressure her or try to manipulate her feelings, and Mary loved him just a little bit more. The question from the small, blonde girl needed to be answered though.

"What happens if I decide not to?" she asked slowly, some fear in those eyes now.

Marshall's gut knotted up, but he kept his tone light and hopefully managed to keep his expression from showing his distress, "Then I weep and rend my garments, writhing in torment until my body is a twisted shell." He teased.

Mary couldn't help but chuckle at him as he made a comical face with the statement, "You should be committed."

He got more serious and leaned over to place a soft kiss on her lips, "If you say no, then I'll help you find a place when we get back. You can still hang with me until then." Pressing a longer and more arousing kiss on her mouth, he lowered his voice, "I will still feel the same way about you…nothing will change the fact that I love you."

And that was the answer she wanted, the answer that truly gave her the freedom to choose independently. Mary knew her decision then, but she wanted to follow his instructions and take some time to think about it. Getting up, she moved to climb into his lap with a sultry smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing little kisses along his jaw until she reached his lips.

"I'm thinking of a song right now." Mary whispered against his mouth, and Marshall started sliding his hand along her thigh from her knee while settling her onto him more securely. Mary's eyebrows raised with the feel of his arousal.

"Mmmm…me too," he murmured as he ran his tongue over her bottom lip, "but I don't think it's the same one you have in mind." Doubts about her decision were being replaced by other, more pressing thoughts, and Marshall turned his attention to this lapful of willing woman.

Mary wiggled a bit to make him twitch and suck in a breath and she continued to tease him with kisses, "Mine has the word 'ass' in it. Thought you'd like that."

Oh, yeah, he liked that, Marshall thought, then got distracted again as his hand slid under her shirt to find she wasn't wearing a bra. Grasping the back of her head, he brought her mouth to his and used his tongue to explore her with licks and swirls while she moaned. Releasing her to look into her aroused eyes, Marshall countered, "But mine has the word 'table' in it."

He was pulled off the porch a few minutes and a few more moans later.

*** *** *** *** ***

The clouds wouldn't quite release their grip on the coast, and the soft breeze blowing through the window had a hint of wetness to, testifying to the slightly foggy conditions outside. Mary's lips curled in a smile as she couldn't think of a better way to spend a foggy morning than as they just had. Breakfast ala skin on the kitchen table…snacks on the couch…and an entirely satisfying and slightly risqué brunch in the bedroom. "_Okay,"_ she thought with a blush, "_the breakfast part was a bit risqué too._" She had never had as much fun making love to someone as she had with the man sleeping in the bed next to her.

Mary sat crosslegged on the sheets sketching on the paper while Marshall slept. She drew the lines of his face in repose, relaxed and angular, stray locks of hair falling onto his forehead and sticking out above the nape of his neck. Shaded in the shadows of his collarbones and ribs above the sheet resting on his abdomen, one hand resting across his waist. Longer, stronger lines for his arm thrown out to lay palm up near his side. She captured the strength of his hands and his leanness, and the aquiline features stood out starkly against the softer contours of the linens he rested upon.

Mary looked at the finished product with a slow smile. Her lover, partner…friend. She had trusted him for so long that she no longer questioned whether he would be there or not, just knew she only had to ask. Sometimes not even ask…just need. This man had somehow wrapped himself around the core of her being and now she couldn't imagine what it would be like to be without him. Empty, she thought, like before.

Walking into the kitchen for a glass of water a half hour ago, Mary had a small epiphany while standing at the counter regarding the room. Had smiled at herself as she remembered having another one of those sitting in an ICU. Dying seemed to trigger them, she reasoned. Her gaze had fallen on the bowl of shells, the nautilus on top, and that rush of memory returned so intensely she had to sit down.

She would never have made the journey back without him, would've continued forward alone and lost. He saved her again in the hospital, keeping her alive with his watch and presence. Again and again in the last weeks he was there when she needed him and Mary thanked the universe for recognizing that she needed to be clubbed over the head by the obvious in order to finally catch on. Picking up the shell, Mary ran her finger around the spiral pattern, seamless and continuous, remembering a show she had seen. She put it in the pocket of her pants as she quietly got dressed and then sat on the bed carefully as to not wake him while beginning to sketch.

Now sliding off again, Mary placed the sketch where he would see it upon wakening and wrote a note. She slipped out the front door a few minutes later.

Marshall sighed and rolled as the breeze blew across his chest and gave him goosebumps. He sought out the warmth of his partner, and opened his eyes in confusion when he didn't find her. The room was dim with the cloudy day and she wasn't there. Thinking she had gotten hungry, his stomach was growling, Marshall levered up to a sitting position to stretch and rub the sleep out of his eyes with intent to join her for food. Eyes falling on the sketch set up against the table lamp, he sat on the edge of the mattress to study it. It was odd to see yourself asleep, disconcerting to see how others saw you when your guard was down and you were unaware of being watched. Intimate. He wished he had one of her.

Looking back on the night table, Marshall got up to get dressed as her note asked him to join her on the beach.

Mary was sitting on a blanket reading a book when he found her, and she offered him a bottle of water as he sat down.

"Your drawing was beautiful, thank you." toeing off his sandals to dig his feet into the cool sand.

"You're a great subject, all clean angles and slightly asymmetrical." Mary tucked the book back in her small bag.

"You're saying I'm lopsided?" he pouted teasingly.

Mary laughed, "Everyone's lopsided, but I will concede you're more off center than most."

She was quiet after that, and Marshall sensed there was something she had brought him out here for.

"Not exactly a great day to sit on the dunes." He drawled as the wind was chilly and the fog made it hard to see even to the pier. They both wore jackets as late fall was slowly taking hold of the southeast coast.

"Hold out your hand." She said while turning to face him on the blanket.

Marshall eyed her, "It's scarier coming from you."

Mary cocked an eyebrow at him peevishly and Marshall offered his palm. Mary placed a shell right in the center.

"You bought the ocean?" he asked, and she burst into laughter.

Both chuckling for a few minutes, Mary then watched Marshall study the shell and began to regale him with her new knowledge, "That's a nautilus shell. Used to be the home of a mollusk of some sort, but they shed them as they outgrow them. You see that spiral there?" she pointed at the design, "If you look inside you'll see a series of chambers. The really interesting thing is that the spiral is a mathematical wonder. Its shape can be described by a logarithmic series of numbers called the golden ratio. The thing is, this ratio is everywhere…nature, music, math, architecture, human form. It's supposed to be the ultimate depiction of beauty…some say proof of a divine hand. It will be exact out to infinity…perfect."

She looked up to see him staring at her with intensity. Marshall knew she was going somewhere with this but was also fascinated by her tutorial. And the word 'logarithmic' coming out of her mouth totally turned him on.

"They were all perfect." Mary said softly. She had to take a few deep breaths to settle her nerves now.

He noticed her shift in mood, "What were?"

"All the shells." she stared down the beach, then brought her eyes back to his with a stretch of her shoulders. Taking his hand with the shell in it, Mary shifted so it lay in her lap and she could touch his fingers. Marshall sat very still.

"You know my heart stopped in the ER, right?" she started, and Marshall visibly flinched, not expecting to be brought back to that, "I died, Marshall, and it wasn't so bad…pretty painless and easy, actually."

"Mare…" he pleaded, but she kept talking in a slow and slightly disconnected voice.

"It looked a lot like this day. Slightly foggy with a breeze, but the air and the water were warm and I could only hear the waves…nothing else. The shore stretched on forever."

Marshall wanted to reach out and hold her for his own need to keep her from drifting away. The way she talked made him feel as if she would disappear as the memory was relayed…as if she was drawn to the place she described.

"I can't describe how it felt. There wasn't a before or an after, just…then," Mary trailed off for a moment and he leaned forward to catch her attention, glad when she started talking again, "There were thousands of shells, Marshall. I've never seen that many before and I wanted to look at all of them. I picked one up and it was a nautilus shell. Perfect. I knew if I kept looking they would all be perfect…not a crack, not a blemish, nothing to damage them or stain them. I started to walk to the next one."

A tear ran down her face and Mary didn't even notice, so caught up in the memory. Marshall scooted closer while letting her keep his hand, "What happened?" he asked quietly to prompt her again.

"My father's voice called from behind me. Said it was time to come home," her voice caught, and Mary swallowed before continuing, "But they were just words floating on the wind. I didn't want to go, so I didn't look back and I kept walking."

Marshall closed his eyes as he listened, never realizing how close he had come to losing her. Not knowing she had already begun the journey. Even her father's call wasn't enough to bring her back, and Marshall knew what he meant to her. He had to ask.

"What made you come back?"

She was quiet for a minute or two, then folded his fingers around the shell, "You called me," she whispered, looking up at him with enough emotion in her eyes to cause his to tear up, "You brought me home, Marshall. I came back for you."

Marshall was stunned, and he flashed back to a conversation in his bedroom.

"_Why did you decide to tell me?"_

"_I decided to tell you because you brought me home."_

Standing, he drew her up and wrapped his arms around her to hold her tightly, face buried in her hair as they stood in the wind. There were no words for him to say, and he knew he had tears falling into her hair.

Mary pulled herself into him as firmly as she could with her arms encircling his waist and face resting on his chest. They stayed that way for a while, just being close. Mary finally spoke, "This may sound really corny, but someone told me we get second chances because the universe is trying to tell us to get it right this time. You're a part of me, and apparently I can't even die without you coming along, so I guess we should just go through this whole thing together then."

She felt her partner shudder, but didn't know if it was the chilly wind or emotion. Hearing him sniffle, Mary called him softly.

"I'm here," he replied, sliding his arms around her securely and resting his chin on the top of her head to catch the breeze in his face, her offer spurring him on, "You know, there's an old proverb that says if you save someone's life you're responsible for them for the rest of your life. If it weren't for you, they wouldn't be here and so you're to care for them."

"That's messed up," Mary was thinking as she rubbed his back slowly, "shouldn't the savee be thankful and responsible?" She felt his chuckle rumble next to her ear.

"I like the first way better," a pause, then he continued, "So, how does that sound?"

"What?"

"The rest of your life."

Mary shifted, and Marshall's arms tightened slightly to keep her from bolting. He concentrated on not hyperventilating.

She slowly turned her head to rest her chin on his chest while looking up at him, a grin on her face, and Marshall looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Well, you didn't think I was going to live with you in sin, did you? I'm Catholic, for Chrissake."

The pure absurdity of her acceptance statement had him in stitches, but he whooped in delight and spun her around until she berated him into stopping.

"You're going to make me hurl, you lunatic. Get your ass inside before we turn blue." It had started to mist.

They gathered up the blanket and bags and trotted back to the cottage coated in moisture. Of course, in the process of cleaning up they managed to lose track of their clothing and wound up back in the bed.

Mary lay limply on his chest as she caught her breath, Marshall's hand slowly tracing circles on her hip while he recovered himself.

"You know, Stan is going to kill us." Mary panted.

"I can't believe you were just thinking about Stan." Marshall pretended to be insulted.

Mary laughed, disturbing their precarious connection, and she slid off him to roll onto her back, "Really, Marshall, what are we going to tell him? He'll have to break us up, but that can't happen."

"Actually," her partner drawled slowly, "I investigated that a little more. There's no actual policy prohibiting partners from being romantically involved. It's just discouraged for obvious reasons. There's a married team in Portland, and people always say we're like an old married couple anyway."

Mary rolled onto her side to look at him with a dangerous gleam and he cringed, "Just how long have you been thinking about this, hmmm?"

Marshall quickly escaped by heading to the bathroom, "Honest to God, I had no plan to ask you yet. Was just going to go with the living together if you even agreed to that."

"Just thought you'd go for the gusto, eh?" she was chuckling and enjoying herself.

Marshall came back out and pounced on top of her and she yelped in surprise, pinned by his elbows on either side of her, "If I remember correctly, missy, you actually asked **me**."

Mary scrunched her face in concentration as she recalled the conversation on the dunes, then blushed and bit her lip and Marshall grinned, "There it is."

Tickling him until he sat back and caught her hands, Mary then challenged, "Mine wasn't really a question, so…who are we going to say actually asked?"

Marshall's eyes softened and he released her hands as he leaned back down, "Mary Elizabeth Shannon, will you marry me?"

Even though she had been giddy earlier, hearing those words just caused her to get all mushy again…and Mary didn't do mushy.

Marshall must've seen her emotional distress because he added in jest, "C'mon, woman, I **am** on my knees here."

"I love you, you fool." she was smiling and her eyes were bright.

"Good enough," he muttered as he leaned in for a kiss, then rolled off and jumped up, "Now let's eat. I'm starving, we missed lunch, and I can smell those ribs you're trying to hide in the freezer."

* * *

***** Oh yay! Honestly, I didn't expect the proposal...was just going to have her agree to live with him. Of course, Marshall can find a proverb to use to his advantage...and she did kinda ask :) There may be an extended scene written for this one...if you want it ;) Please REVIEW!!...one more chapter and we'll leave our heroes to live their lives. *****

***** I Wanna Be a Cowboy -- Boys Don't Cry**

***** lyrics "looks like a cool drink of water but is candy coated misery" : Casanova Cowboy -- Carrie Underwood**

***** You really don't want to know what songs they were thinking about when kissing...they're naughty ;)**


	40. Led Me to Where You Are

***** Thanks to all who read, wrote, wept and ranted throughout...you've made it fabulous fun!! I especially want to thank Lynne, Kathiann, Annie, Kim, Cherilyn, Sarah for their story swapping and incredible tolerance for my whining! *****

***** Freaya: thank you for the scene idea that starts this chapter *****

***** Well, our saga comes to an end *sniff*. It's a _looong_ chapter folks, but I wanted to get all the requests in and finish the story where it finished in my head.*****

* * *

I think about the years I spent just passing through  
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you  
But you just smile and take my hand  
You've been there you understand  
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are  
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars  
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms  
This much I know is true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you

--- Broken Road, Rascal Flatts

* * *

The slow jazz played softly in the background as the last of the wine was poured, lights low and the fireplace coals burning red as the couple curled up on the couch.

"Did you call that invite out to Detective Dershowitz?" Eleanor asked as Stan pulled her back against his chest.

"Mmmhmm," Stan was distracted by the smell of her hair, "he'll be there. Do you really think it's a good idea to have a surprise welcome back party for Mary? I'm not sure she likes surprises."

"It's just her friends, not a big deal, and I think she'll be fine so long as we don't fuss. Just a casual get together that happens to have some balloons and food."

Marshall had agreed to get Mary to come to the office for lunch one day after they got back from vacation so Eleanor could have the party. He had called the woman the day before to ask her to help investigate the true nature of any policies regarding partner relationships. Marshall was vague, but Eleanor figured Mary had agreed to live with him so he was trying to find a way for the pair to remain partners. Now that she knew about the married team in Portland, Eleanor was positive she could work her magic and make sure Stan wasn't put in a tight spot.

Mary and Marshall had one of the best records, and she was certain hopping in the sack wasn't going to change that for those two. It would probably make them even more volatile than they already were, and that seemed to work well for them.

"I wonder what they're doing out there in Georgia?" Stan mused while he lightly caressed her arm.

"Oh, I don't know…enjoying the beach, visiting Savannah, kayaking. All those relaxing things neither of them have gotten to do for ages."

Stan was quiet for a moment, then hesitantly asked, "You don't think they're…you know…fooling around?"

Eleanor laughed quietly as she rolled her eyes, "I try not to think too hard about those things, Stan. And anyway…what if they are? So are we."

"It's just that I'd hate to have to step between them for something like that," Stan sighed and shifted, "There's no way I could partner either one with someone else…it would be a disaster."

"Who says you'd have to do anything?" Eleanor turned a bit to catch his eye, "not only would Mary and Marshall be utterly discreet about something like that, but there may not be a hard policy that forces your hand. We couldn't find anything to say our relationship was a no-no, remember?"

Stan furrowed his brow as he thought back to their policy search and having come up empty. Still, the thought of his two Inspectors doing the horizontal bop threw him off his game a bit. It just seemed…weird.

"They're not kids, you know," Eleanor spoke up, reading his thoughts, "You don't need to have the birds and the bees talk with them. And we don't even know if it's going on, so quit fussing."

Eleanor put down her wine glass and leaned over to take his. Turning around, she crawled into his lap as he smiled and welcomed her, "I know the perfect way to take your mind off of it too."

Stan wasn't thinking much at all soon afterwards.

*** *** *** ***

The return to Albuquerque was bittersweet. Mary was excited to be one step closer to returning to work, and still riding the high of being with Marshall, but the little cottage by the sea would call to her for a while, she was sure.

They had made a copy of the picture of them on the obstacle course and put it in a frame to leave on the table of pictures in the loft. Mary had burst into tears with the act and Marshall had no idea what was wrong, only able to soothe her as she sobbed. She couldn't explain the sense of belonging the displayed photo finally gave her, and just leaned into his comfort.

Mary was a little nervous about the house, didn't know if she'd like it and felt a little odd that Marshall had bought it.

"I'm paying half the mortgage." she insisted as they drove from the airport.

"Of course." he agreed, knowing better than to argue, "And we can do the paperwork to put your name on the deed and note so I can't sell it out from underneath you when I skip out to Vegas with a showgirl named Buffy."

It was his way of warning her not to push the issue of him owning the house. He was happy to share and put her on the paperwork, she knew, but didn't want her to overanalyze it or try to make it an issue.

"I'm good." She assured him, and he smiled over at her.

Mary loved the house and Marshall preened until she smacked him. The ceilings in the great room and kitchen were high with a large wall of windows to overlook the neighborhood and the mountains beyond. The kitchen was roomy, but not so big as to be impractical and Mary loved the gas stove. The master bedroom had a fireplace and she was skeptical, asking him if he planned on roasting marshmallows after sex. He assured her she'd change her mind after a few cold nights. They designated the study/office and the guest bedroom, then stood in the doorway of the last bedroom and tried to decide.

"Well, you once stated you wanted a bullet room." he offered.

Mary chuckled, "That was pretty off the cuff at the time. Not really practical. Maybe an exercise room?"

"When do you exercise other than to beat up the poor rookies at the gym?" Marshall looked at her with disbelief, "And I certainly don't see you kayaking down the Rio Grande."

"I could hire Sean as my personal trainer. Think he'd move to Albuquerque?" she teased.

"He seemed nice, hate to have to shoot him." Marshall drawled and they laughed.

"Weapons." Marshall said. An idea in his mind that could possibly work.

"In here?" Mary could see him thinking.

"Yeah…swords, guns…cool stuff. Like a little weapon museum or something." He was now walking around looking at the walls and holding up his hands in measurement.

Mary snorted and walked back to the great room, "Oh yeah, that'll be great 'til the three year old stabs the baby." Thinking about an appalling news story she had read a few days ago.

Marshall poked his head out of the room, excited, "We're having kids? When?"

"Down boy. My insides are finally tacked down. Don't plan on rearranging them again for a while."

Marshall was now looking at the weapon room with other options in mind. Bunk beds and dollhouses.

Mary was unlocking the French doors in the kitchen to take in the backyard and pool. The fenced area offered privacy without it being closed in, and the pool was smaller than the one at her house, but landscaped so nicely it looked a lot bigger. She had to admit her partner did a great job of picking out the place. Turning to look back at the house, Mary smiled.

"Hey," she called and waited for Marshall to appear at the door, "Dershowitz is going to be really proud of you."

"Clarify."

"Security lights," she motioned towards the lamps with her head, "and I saw an alarm keypad when we came in." Neither she nor Marshall had systems in their old houses and Bobby D. was always on them to get something installed.

"We have the option of getting those activated, thought I'd see what you have to say about it." Marshall offered.

Mary wasn't going to live in fear, but she wasn't stupid either, and the additional piece of mind would be appreciated for a while at least, "We can try it out for a while, see if we like it."

Marshall agreed, but with a condition, "You can't change the code if you're pissed at me." He knew she would do it if he didn't set the rule.

Mary drew a little X over her chest as she rolled her eyes, "Cross my heart."

Marshall had managed to get all his stuff moved into the house before he had left for Georgia, but didn't unpack any boxes as he wanted to wait for Mary. They dragged a few things into respective rooms and unpacked enough to keep them clean, clothed and fed for a few days while settling in.

Later, exhausted from the day and tangled together in the bed, Marshall asked, "Should we tell anyone, or let them guess?"

Mary had a moment of hesitation, "Do you not want anyone to know?"

He kissed her head, "If it was up to me I'd put it on one of those electronic billboards over the highway, but I think we may want to be a little more discreet."

She relaxed, "True, true. I bet it takes at least three months for anyone to realize we're living together."

"Hmmm," Marshall thought, "I plan on getting you a ring, so the females of the tribe may get suspicious when they see that."

"Only Eleanor would notice, and she knows already so we can't include her." Marshall had told Mary about getting Eleanor to help them research.

Marshall was happy she didn't protest the ring, "Okay, I'll take your bet, but I think it'll be less than three months."

"Winner makes the stakes." Mary said and they rock, papered, scissored with Marshall crowing in victory. He was going to have to think about a suitable challenge. Something he could live with, but would drive Mary nuts.

Mary yawned and burrowed under the covers, "Lights out at the ranch, Cowboy, I'm beat."

"Hey Mare…" he said softly and she tilted her head to see him, "welcome home."

*** *** *** *** ***

Marshall's parents were thrilled with the news of his engagement, and his mom launched into a series of stories regarding her and his father's times at the cottage. Marshall smiled into the phone to hear her so excited and Mary leaned over to listen too.

"You know, honey, your brother was conceived at that cottage."

Marshall turned bright red, "Jesus, Mom! Really didn't need to know that."

Mary fell over into the couch cushions in hilarity, shoulders shaking as she added, "Tell her what we did on the kitchen table!"

Marshall hissed her silent and shoved her off onto the floor. She laughed harder.

*** *** *** *** ***

Mary strode out of the elevator towards the office with a sense of relief, finally completing the last leg of the journey home as she came over to say hi to everyone and meet up with Marshall for lunch. He wanted her to look over the files for the witnesses they would be managing within the next month. Mary's fingers were twitching in anticipation of working again.

She sensed the change in the air and her head popped up to really look into the main area, immediately pivoting to dive back into the elevator only to run headlong into Marshall.

"Surprise!" he said with an evil, cheesy grin, "Going somewhere?"

"You're sleeping on the couch, asshole."

"We'll talk, now let's go be nice to the people who are happy to see you." Spinning her around, he forced her to continue towards the main office as the three other people she called friends stood waiting with balloons.

Mary had to admit to a good time, flattered a bit by the genuine happiness at her return and the familiar banter that she hadn't realized she missed. No one got her a goofy gift or waxed poetic on how lucky she was, just talked and ate and drank bad champagne while arguing about which of them would survive the longest in a horror movie.

"Put the villain in a room with Mary for an hour or two and he'll run screaming, I'm sure." Eleanor offered with a toast to the glaring woman.

"Or, Marshall and Eleanor could just bore him to death with protocol and copy paper trivia." Mary shot back.

"What about me?" Stan asked, affronted, "I'm not washed up yet, you know."

The four people just stared at him, "Fine." he growled and poured another glass of champagne.

"You'd go back to save some pretty young thing, Stan," Bobby said, "Dead for sure."

"What about Detective Dershowitz?" offered Eleanor.

Bobby laughed and raised his plastic glass, "Hell no. I'm the token black man…dead in the first twenty minutes."

Marshall nearly choked on his cake.

*** *** *** *** ***

"Have you found a new house yet, sweetie?" Jinx asked as Mary was over to help them move the last of their belongings into the new condo.

Mary had been home for three weeks, and she closed on the condo a week ago after the insurance payments were processed through. Jinx and Brandi were excited to move, but Brandi was having a hard time leaving Peter behind. Mary sympathized. She had agreed to spend the day helping them get the place set up since she started back to work on Monday.

"No, Mom," Mary blew her hair out of her face as she set down her load of boxes, "the market is tight, I just bought this place, and I'm fine over at Marshall's right now. He's got plenty of room."

Jinx was moving one small box at a time, and Mary glared at her while her mother sat down to rest, "It doesn't look right for you to be living there with your partner. People will talk."

"Seriously, Mom, who?" Mary leaned on the stack of boxes with her hand on her hip, "Everyone who knows me knows my house burned down and my partner has been kind enough to loan me some space."

The hurtful words Jinx had spat at her so many weeks ago still stung, and Mary had little tolerance for her mother's hypocritical morality checks. She hoped Brandi got here soon with her load of boxes. Squish had been a good buffer between her and her mother these last weeks. At least Jinx didn't seem to be drinking anymore, and Peter said she was going to meetings again. Small blessings, Mary supposed, although she just couldn't muster up the empathy she used to force herself to feel for the woman. Loosening the grip her father had on her also allowed a lot of the guilt and obligation she felt towards Jinx to drain away.

"Did Peter give you the papers we're going to sign?" Mary asked her mother.

"Really, Mary, you're going to make me and your baby sister sign a lease?" Jinx pouted on the couch.

"If you want to live here, yes." Mary was reading the printing on the boxes in order to move them to the correct room, ignoring her mother's whines, "You have a job, and the rent is well within your means since I'm making it dirt cheap. I'm not picking up the tab when I don't even live here, and you can't rent your own place because your credit is in the negative numbers."

"It's hard to just get tossed into this situation, Mary. It's been a long time." Jinx got back up to move a few things around.

Mary sighed, sensing the distress in Jinx's voice, "Mom, you and Brandi are grown women who need to have their own place. I thought you wanted to get your life back on track, and sometimes you just have to jump in with both feet."

Jinx was thinking about Mary's statement and watching her oldest daughter move about the condo.

"What happened to you, Mary?" the softly worded statement made Mary pause as Jinx continued, "You went away so suddenly, then Marshall sold his house to buy a new one, and now that you're back you seem…different."

"You know what happened. I got shot and my recovery wasn't as smooth as we all expected. I needed to take some time away. Marshall sold his house because of some things related to the case," Mary finally turned to look at her mother, "And I am different. I put a lot of things in perspective."

Jinx tilted her head, "You seem calmer…happy, even. If you can ever be happy."

Mary studied her mother back, not realizing the woman was that perceptive, but not willing to give any ground at this point.

"You know, Mom, I've found that I can." Mary went back to unloading boxes.

*** *** *** *** ***

"What are you doing, nitwit?" Mary asked as Marshall pulled her out of the study by one wrist, "I'm trying to get your eight million books onto six puny shelves here."

"The door's done and I want you to see it."

The front door had to be replaced due to pure ugliness, and Marshall had been working all morning but wouldn't let her see it. Mary rolled her eyes as she allowed him to lead her to the front of the house, knowing he was like a little boy with his first tool set sometimes, then stood back with an appraising eye as he bowed with a flourish to display his work.

Mary had to admit the door looked quite good, nearly professional, and she was starting to really like the idea of having someone handy in the household.

"Okay, Bob the Builder, I'm going to say I'm impressed, but don't think it buys you sexual favors or anything."

"I have to buy those now? Why didn't I get that memo?" he teased.

Mary snorted, looked at the door from a few more angles with a nod, then made to go back inside.

"Wait a minute." Marshall said.

She turned to look at him with eyebrows raised, waiting.

"New door…new house…new furniture," he stepped closer to her with a twinkle in his eye, "We need one more thing to have it all put together."

"New car?" she guessed.

Marshall snagged her left hand as he pulled his other hand out of his pocket, "New us."

Mary stood very still as he placed the ring on her finger, a lump in her throat. It was beautiful, and its shape brought tears to her eyes that she tried to fight back. Platinum, with a small spiral of diamonds whirling outward from the center. Perfect.

She bit her lips as she stared at her finger, wondering at the convoluted and painful road she had taken to get to this place. Wondering at the strength of the man holding her hand who had stood by her all this time. She had no words to say.

"Mare," Marshall asked softly as she remained still and quiet, "do you like it?"

Her head bobbed in a nod and then she looked up at him and he knew why she hadn't spoken, eyes full of tears and chin quivering slightly and he just pulled her to him with a smile.

"Did you think I had forgotten?" Marshall asked as he stroked her back.

She shook her head no against his chest as her arms snaked around him.

"Are you happy?"

Nodding yes now, Mary tightened her grip and he felt her breath hitch.

"Are you going to use me like a giant Kleenex?" he kissed the top of her head.

She sniffled loudly in response and he laughed, as happy as she.

*** *** *** *** ***

Mary walked into the ICU with a large bag of bagels and spread and two boxes of donuts and asked the secretary at the main desk to find Kelly for her. Having dug Kelly's card out of her wallet yesterday, Mary had called the woman to find out she was working that night and Mary told her she wanted to come by and say hi. Knowing food was a gift sure to be appreciated, Mary had actually set her alarm for o'dark thirty in order make an early run to the breakfast shops and arrive at the hospital by 5:30 am, wanting her gift to be enjoyed by both shifts. Marshall had grumbled and hidden under the covers when she turned on the bathroom light and Mary had accused him of wussing out, for which she received no acknowledgment. Solo it was.

"Mary!" Kelly came out from a back room and quickly walked over to help her with the packages. They put them in the little side break room and Kelly turned to look Mary over. The tall woman was dressed for work and wore her badge and weapon and Kelly could not believe the transition.

"Oh my God, I hardly recognize you," just shaking her head and the difference between the strong and proud woman standing before her now compared to the barely recovered one she had seen a few months ago.

Mary was smiling with the approval, "Yeah, well, I've spent a little time putting myself back together. Been back at work for about three weeks now."

They grabbed a few chairs and sat around the table, "I have to say, I can now see why everyone was in shock when they found out how sick you were. They all kept saying it was hard to believe you could be taken down, and seeing you today makes me understand."

Becoming a little embarrassed with the praise, Mary switched topics, "I really wanted to come by and say thanks for all you did…for all everyone did. I know you probably don't get to hear it as much as you should." Mary certainly knew that feeling.

"Just seeing you is satisfactory, but we will definitely keep the food." Kelly teased, then turned it back on Mary again, "So, how's Marshall?"

Mary laughed, "Still in bed, probably. I wasn't able to pry him out from under the covers." she let the statement sit for a minute.

Kelly's eyes lit up and she leaned forward, "Really? Do tell!"

Mary summed up the story by waving her left hand in the air and Kelly grabbed at it, "Gimme…let me see."

The women talked and laughed for a little while longer until Kelly had to attend to a patient. Calling her goodbyes, Kelly reminded her about that invite and Mary waved in agreement.

*** *** *** *** ***

Eleanor noticed the ring right away, but agreed to keep the secret a little while longer as Mary told her about the bet, plus she wanted to see how long it would take Stan to clue in. Mary let her know she had four weeks to go to win and threatened Eleanor with a mass stapling disaster if word leaked out before then.

Mary passed all her requalifying exams the week before and was finally put back on active duty, celebrating with Marshall at their favorite greasy spoon for breakfast that morning.

"This is what I get?" Mary teased as she gestured at the half full diner, "cracked plastic chairs, a snotty waitress, crappy Christmas decorations and runny eggs? I can't believe I hauled my ass all over that training course for this."

"Picky, picky," Marshall droned as he had his eyes on the newspaper next to him, "And I hear your ass looked pretty damn good out there."

She made a disgusted face, "Let me guess, Phillips?"

"Ding, ding, we have a winner," Marshall looked up and smiled at her, "Ass kicking privileges go to the little lady in blue."

"God, you know just what to give a girl." Mary beamed.

"Make it sooner rather than later, would you?" Marshall signaled the waitress for more coffee, "I almost flattened him at the gym the other day."

Mary reached over to tickle him under the chin and he swatted at her, "Awww, aren't you sweet. All protective and crap."

"Well, you do have to actually survive through the wedding ceremony in order for me to take life insurance out on you, you know." He was reading the paper again and trying not to grin.

"I should've shot you by accident a long time ago." Mary growled.

*** *** *** *** ***

I was two weeks before Christmas and Mary was glowering at Marshall's attempts to get her to help decorate the tree. Her partner was positively bubbly about the holiday, and Mary could've cared less. Christmas had never been much more than another day at her house growing up, some years there was a tree, some years not. Mary always tried to make it nice for Brandi by cutting out snowflakes from the scrap paper around the house, and taking her to the church services on Christmas Eve to hear the choir, but Christmas morning was pretty much a crap shoot. Jinx always had a present for them, but Mary dreaded the disappointed look on her little sister's face when it wasn't the doll or game she had been wanting, but clothes or school supplies instead.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Marshall called, having been trying to get her attention for the last few minutes.

He knew Mary didn't like Christmas, knew her memories of the holiday were grim and depressing, but he was hoping she would try to make Christmases with him a little better. His attempts so far had elicited nothing but sighs and glares, and Marshall decided to pull out the big guns.

Making sure she was looking at him now, he began, "Remember when I said I would try not to ask much of you?"

"_Uh oh,"_ Mary thought as she answered, "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, Christmas is one of my favorite holidays…" he started before she cut him off.

"All the holidays are your favorite holidays."

Staring her into silence, he continued, "…so I want to ask you if you would try to find something about it you can enjoy. If you can't do that, then at least let me enjoy it. Okay?"

Feeling about two inches tall, Mary looked at her partner and realized she had fallen back into the old habit of thinking her universe consisted solely of herself. She wasn't taking Marshall's feelings or needs into account and mentally chastised herself.

"I can make snowflakes?" she offered with a small smile, pleased to see him relax and smile back.

"I love snowflakes."

The tree had more snowflakes than ornaments, and Mary made so many Marshall brought some into work to hang on the tree there, never revealing the artist.

*** *** *** *** ***

"You know I win this bet in a week, right?" Mary was teasing Marshall as they got ready for the Christmas party at work.

"So sure of yourself. It's cute, actually." He mocked.

Mary made a face at him and bumped him out of the way as she left the bathroom. She was only going to this party because of Marshall, and if he was going to give her a hard time she would damn well stay home. The weeks up to the holiday had been a little kinder as she allowed herself to appreciate the enjoyment her partner got out of the season plus trying to remember the reason for the holiday in the first place. There really wasn't a point in wallowing in past hurts and wrongs, especially since she really felt like it was time to move forward.

"You never have asked me what the loser will be subjected to," Marshall called, "Aren't you curious as to your fate?"

Mary had been so certain of winning that she really hadn't thought to ask, "Fine. What will I have to put up with while you whine?"

He stuck his head out of the bathroom to grin at her and wiggle his eyebrows, "You have to wear the Santa hat at work for a week."

"Wait a minute," Mary protested with her hands on her hips, "You can't pick something that you don't mind doing if you lose."

"Where is that written? I don't remember that being said at any point."

"I don't think…"

"You didn't win the toss so you don't get to think."

"I'm not going to…"

"Yes you are."

Marshall had moved to stand right in front of her with a gleam in his eye. He grabbed her in a rough embrace and Mary put her hands on his chest.

"You are going to wear that Santa hat all day…" he growled, then swiftly bent to place a hard and deep kiss on her mouth and her hands gripped his chest. He began to trail kisses along her jaw towards her ear while continuing, "…and then I'm going to bring you home and strip you out of everything except the Santa hat…", Mary now leaned into him as her legs were getting less cooperative, then moaned as Marshall ran his tongue over and under her earlobe while whispering, "…and then devour you until I make you say "ho, ho, ho"." He grabbed her ass and pulled her firmly against him.

"_Oh, jingle my fucking bells_," Mary whooped in her head.

Marshall released her just as quickly and Mary gave a little whimper in protest.

"But, of course, if you win I guess you'll just have to settle for laughing at me all day." he said while walking over to pick out a tie.

"You're Santa's evil little elf, aren't you?" She growled with a glare as she caught her breath and straightened her dress.

"Decisions, decisions…naughty or nice…hmmm." Marshall continued to softly taunt her with one raised eyebrow, humming a little tune while she glared until they left.

The holiday party was always a chaotic event, and this year was no different. Good food, good alcohol and generally bad behavior, all would profess to either a rip roaring good time or miserable hangover the next day.

Most people were surprised to see Mary as she had not attended the last few years, and she received many "great to see you up and arounds" and "you look greats" until she was hunting down the shortest path to the bar. She had lost Marshall and Stan about a half hour ago as the men were being dragged off for some contest of male grunting or something, leaving Mary to fend for herself socially and fend off typically intelligent men who would know better than to approach her on a sober day. Her mouth was sore from the false smiles, her feet hurt in the high heels and she now had a wet spot on the front of her dress from the newbie who thought he could maneuver her under the mistletoe without her realizing it.

Finally, however, she saw Marshall above the crowd and he turned to catch her eye, giving her a beaming smile and Mary sighed. He was having a good time, and she really wasn't as miserable as she was making herself out to be, so she smiled back with intent to hang in there for a while longer. For him.

"Mary," came a familiar voice from behind her and she turned, "What a wonderful surprise! You look fabulous!"

Bev Carter was a middle aged, plump woman who supervised the smooth running of the evidence room. She held tight control over anything case related, and you had to promise your first born in addition to undergoing body cavity searches to remove anything from her domain. Mary truly liked the woman, but hadn't had the chance to see her since she'd been back.

"Bev! It's good to see you too." Mary suffered through the brief hug from the slightly inebriated woman and smiled warmly.

"When did you get back, young lady, and why haven't you come down to see me?"

"I was down there the other day, but I didn't spot you. How have you been?" Mary grabbed another glass of champagne from a tray being brought around

"Same shit, different day, you know," the women shared a sympathetic moment, then Bev looked her up and down appraisingly, focusing on the drink held in Mary's left hand.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a diamond ring on your finger, my girl?" Bev raised questioning eyebrows with a bigger grin.

"_Oh crap_." Thought Mary, frozen and thinking fast, "_Santa hat with perks…Santa hat on Marshall…Santa hat and nothing else…Santa hat on Marshall…fuck it._"

"It **is** a diamond ring." Not offering anything more, but Bev's face just lit up. She had been after Mary to find a good man for a long time, not ever knowing about Raph, as no one outside the WITSEC office did.

Squealing, Bev hugged her again and Mary tried to keep her drink from spilling and looking around to see if anyone else noticed the hubbub. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be attracting any attention.

"Well, tell me all about him!" the older woman begged, rubbing her hands together, "Where did you meet him, what does he do, is he good in bed?"

Mary snorted and smiled, then replied, "I've known him a long time and it finally all came together. He's my best friend."

"Oh honey, I'm so happy for you! What does that partner of yours think?" Her question had Mary biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

"He's one hundred percent supportive. Thinks it's the best decision I've ever made."

Bev squealed again and regaled Mary with love stories and matchmaking successes in her time until the Marshal was able to extricate herself and head towards Marshall.

"I'm wearing the damn hat." She reluctantly groaned as she stood next to him and they surveyed the crowd.

"Yes," he hissed, pumping his fist in the air, "I am the champion."

She jostled him on purpose so he would have to step awkwardly to save his egg nog, "Bev from the evidence room spotted the ring."

Marshall looked at her warily, "How much did you tell her?"

"I told her I was marrying my best friend. And that my partner thinks I'm a very smart woman." she smiled at him.

Marshall chuckled, almost hugged her then checked himself as he remembered where they were, "She doesn't know it's me, does she."

"Not a clue."

Bev may not have known who Mary was engaged to, but she certainly knew how to spread the word and within a half hour Eleanor had heard the buzz. She quickly looked for Stan and hurried over to pull him aside where they wouldn't be overheard.

"I just wanted to tell you," she began as he looked at her questioningly, "that I found out there is no official policy prohibiting partners from becoming romantically involved or maintaining a relationship. In fact, there are two married teams in the US, and as long as they meet all the standard requirements for maintaining their witness case loads and percentages, there's nothing to say they cannot work together."

He looked at her oddly, "And you're telling me this right now because…?"

"It just seemed like a really good time." she said perkily with a smile, then took his arm to lead him back into the fray.

A number of women had now come up to Mary to see her ring, and Marshall just stood by and admired it with them, muttering the requisite "I'm so happy for her" and "he's a great guy" as he tried to maintain his composure. The looks on Mary's face were priceless, not used to having this much attention, and he was going to bust a gut soon. He did, however, melt just a little bit each time she described him as her best friend.

Eleanor was sure Stan would pop a vessel as she watched him react to the news that Mary was engaged while talking to another couple from two floors down. He turned to glare at her when the couple left, and Eleanor grinned sheepishly then trotted behind him as he made a beeline for his Inspectors.

"Incoming." Marshall muttered to Mary as he saw Stan cruising across the room.

"Fuck." Mary returned, looking for an exit as she saw the expression on their boss' face and chugging the rest of her drink.

Trapped, they both put on their best "Hi, welcome to Albuquerque" smiles they used for new witnesses. Knowing Stan wouldn't make a scene, most WITSEC officers don't, Mary and Marshall just steadied themselves for a quiet and intense diatribe.

He stood in front of them, grabbed Mary's hand and stared at the ring, then dropped it to just glare, "I don't…I'm not…dammit…you and you…" then just breathing.

"Nouns…verbs?" asked Mary and Marshall pinched her discreetly, "ow!"

"What he's trying to say is that he's very happy for you both and will do his best to assure you of your privacy within the walls of our office," turning to her boss, "right?"

Stan's coloring faded from the nuclear red palette to irritated pink and his glare lessened. Shoving his hands in his pockets he tilted his head, "You're not going to make me regret keeping my mouth shut, are you?"

"No sir." They both replied simultaneously. All business.

Stan just stared as them for a minute longer then turned to stalk off muttering, "You people make me crazy."

The three people left behind waited until he was well out of earshot to double over in laughter, relief at finally knowing all was going to be well for a while.

Mary wore the Santa hat with a grin everyday.

*** *** *** *** ***

They were married on a foggy beach in Georgia three days before the first anniversary of her shooting, having had a busy year and finally finding enough time to take vacation and arrange for a small ceremony with their immediate families, very close friends and a special guest. Their vows were simple and their kisses long and there wasn't a dry eye in the small crowd. Ice cream sundaes were had afterwards, and the sun came out so they all could sit outside the ice cream parlor and enjoy the sea.

Mary and Marshall stayed at the cottage for another week, but had to get back to some dicey witness issues after that. Four months later, Marshall was grazed and knocked unconscious in a transport gone bad and Mary had to be sick in the bathroom after the paramedics assured her he was going to be just fine with a few stitches. Sitting on the floor of the stall and shaking, she figured he had waited long enough and life was just too damn short.

Marshall was cleaning the kitchen after the last guest had left from their family dinner. They had started to invite Brandi and Jinx to dinner once a month after the wedding, and now included Peter as he and Brandi were to be married next summer. Mary remained on the patio, finishing a sketch of the mountains that she just didn't seem to get right as the spring weather had finally warmed enough to be outside. She heard Marshall open the oven door to wipe it down, as the strangely fastidious man did after he cooked anything, and waited.

"Hey Mare?" he called with a question in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"Why is there a solitary hamburger bun in the oven?"

She waited a moment or two then called back, "You disappoint me, Cowboy. Work on that one for a minute."

Silence. Then she heard him knock something over as he was moving and saw him stand in the doorway a moment later with an incredulous look on his face.

"Really?" he whispered.

"We're going to have to redecorate the weapon room."

She laughed at him while he danced like an idiot.

* * *

***** I'm sad it's ended...I really am. I could write so much more!!! Thank you again, and please leave your final REVIEWS...I'd LOVE to get to 500...*hint!* Until next fic! *****

***** If you want to see Mary's ring, here it is on my live journal: (take out the spaces)**

http : // bujyo .livejournal .com / 9346 . html


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